About the Blood
by angelus cado
Summary: AU after season 2, pre-series for Harry Potter. Buffy sends Angel to hell, but ends up being thrown through time and space in the process. She ends up at Hogwarts in 1943. Will she change history?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Harry Potter do not belong to me, and remain property of their respective creators, publishers and production companies. Purely for fun, not profit.

**Summary:** AU after season 2 of Buffy. Buffy sends Angel to Hell but gets transported through time and space in the backlash of the portal closing. She ends up at Hogwarts in 1943.

Chapter 1

"_Shh, don't worry about it," Buffy whispered against Angel's lips. She laid her hand on his cheek and kissed him. They kissed for a few moments as the vortex behind them continued to grow. _

"_I love you," Buffy whispered after she broke off their kiss._

"_I love you," Angel whispered back. Buffy brushed his lips with her fingers._

"_Close your eyes," Buffy whispered, nodding reassuringly. Angel did what she told him to and closed his eyes._

_Trying hard not to cry, Buffy kissed him one last time before stepping back slightly and thrusts her sword into his chest. Angel's eyes opened immediately in both surprise and pain, and a light emanated from the sword. Buffy stepped back a little more, unable to meet Angel's eyes. He looked at her, and all she could do was stare at the sword coming out of his chest._

"_Buffy…" he whispered, but she would not look at him. Behind him, the vortex to Hell was growing still, its energy interacting with Angel's energy. Angel held his hand out to her, but she did not acknowledge it. The vortex met him, and Angel was swallowed into the portal. There was a slight backlash of power, and when the dust cleared, the statue of Acathla stood alone, with no sign of Buffy or Angel._

***

"Oof!"

Buffy landed on some grass with a dull 'thud'. She lay there for a moment, trying to collect her thoughts. She had just sent Angel to hell. Angel was in hell.

And it was all her fault.

"Oh God," she whispered, burying her head in her arms. She let the tears fall, unaware and uncaring of where she was. She lay there for what seemed like hours, crying. It wasn't until she heard a voice that she came up for air.

"Who are you and what are you doing here?"

Buffy extracted her head from her arms and looked up. Standing over her was a very tall man with long, auburn hair that was turning grey and a beard that matched.

"My… my name is Buffy," Buffy replied softly, her voice hoarse from crying. "A-and I don't know what I'm doing here."

"Well, child, I'm sure we can figure it out," the man said, holding out his had to her. Buffy hesitated for a moment before allowing him to help her up. If he was bad, she was certain she could take him. After all, how dangerous could an old man be? "Let's get you up to the school to warm up. You can explain everything to the headmaster when we get there."

It was then Buffy realized that it was almost pitch black outside, and that the stars were out in full force. She also realized that she wasn't in Sunnydale anymore; it was far too chilly to be a southern California evening, even in winter. She wanted to ask her guide where she was, but thought it would be a good idea to wait until she was inside somewhere.

Buffy followed her "guide", numb from everything that had happened over the last few hours. She had been kicked out of her house, expelled from school, saved the world and sent her lover to hell. She was a little surprised that she wasn't more tired than she was. Well, she would have been surprised if she could feel any kind of emotion.

Dumbledore glanced at the slight girl. She was sad, depressed, and he wondered what had happened to her to make her this way. She was so young; what could she have seen? What had she done? He also wondered why and how she got to Hogwarts. Apparition was impossible because of the wards, and Portkeys that were not authorized by the Ministry of Magic were illegal. Besides that, the girl didn't look like a witch. She was dressed strangely; trousers and a tight-fitting shirt. Did Muggle women wear trousers? Dumbledore wasn't sure, but it certainly seemed strange to him.

"You're lucky you got here when you did," Dumbledore said, glancing at the girl. "All of the students are in bed, so you shouldn't have to deal with inquisitive young minds."

"Oh," Buffy said, unsure of how to answer. She wasn't really sure of anything at the moment; everything was weird to her. Getting a better look at the older man, she realized that he was wearing a dress. At least, it looked like a dress. She didn't say anything, though. She thought it would be a good idea to stay on the man's good side because he had offered to help her.

"As soon as we get over the crest of this hill, you should be able to see the school," the man said. He stopped for a moment to let Buffy catch up. _For an old guy, he sure can walk fast, _she thought, though she hadn't even broken into a sweat following him. She stopped next to him, partly wanting to get a glimpse of the school they were near.

"That's a school?" Buffy asked, her jaw dropping in shock. She had been expecting something like Sunnydale High School. What she got was a huge castle with towers and turrets and courtyards. It was too beautiful to be a school.

"Breathtaking, isn't it?" the man asked. "I still get chills when I see it, even after all of these years."

Buffy knew better than to ask how old he was, though she would estimate mid-forties to early fifties, sixty at the most. She stood and stared at the school for a moment before the man spoke up again.

"We should be off, then," he said. "We don't want to keep Professor Dippet up too late."

The man started down the hill and Buffy followed. They walked in silence, neither of them knowing what they could say. It was a short walk, and soon they arrived at the castle.

"We'll go through this door," he said as they came up to a side door. Buffy couldn't quite see what he was doing, but it looked like the man had taken something out of his pocket before tapping on the door. The door creaked open, and the man motioned for Buffy to follow him.

The door they had come through led to a corridor lit by torches. Buffy took a moment to glance around, marvelling at the lack of technology that was around. As far as she could tell, there was no electricity.

"I'm sorry to say, but we have a bit of a walk ahead of us," the man said, motioning to Buffy to follow him. "If you don't mind, Miss…?"

"Summers, Buffy Summers," Buffy replied as she turned and followed him. "What can I call you?"

"I am Professor Dumbledore," the man, Dumbledore, replied with a small smile. "I teach transfiguration here at the school."

Buffy had no idea what he was talking about, and she supposed her confusion showed on her face. Dumbledore chuckled a little before explaining himself.

"I teach the students to transform something into another completely different item," he said.

"How do you do that?" Buffy asked.

"Magic," Dumbledore said with a wink. Buffy's jaw dropped in shock a second time that night. _This is a magic school? _she thought. _Cool. _She jogged a few steps to keep up with Dumbledore; apparently he didn't alter his pace, even when he dropped bombs like that.

The pair walked in silence again, Buffy still staring in awe at all of the things around her in the castle. Now that they were walking in the main part of the school, Buffy could see some of the stranger things of the school. Even though the subjects of the paintings lining the walls were asleep, Buffy could still see them move. She wasn't certain of it, but she thought she heard a couple of them snore.

"Come along Miss Summers, I'm sure you'll have plenty of time to gawk at the portraits," Dumbledore said, glancing over his shoulder. _Not if they kick me out once they find out I can't do magic, _Buffy thought as she hurried to catch up to Dumbledore.

Several moving staircases and a couple of floors later, Buffy and Dumbledore stood in front of a gargoyle statue. Dumbledore walked up to it, crouched by where its ear supposedly was, and whispered something. Whatever he said must have done the trick, because the gargoyle sprung to life and moved out of the way, revealing a moving golden staircase, much like an escalator.

"Let's go on up," said Dumbledore, stepping onto the staircase. Buffy followed suit, and the staircase started moving. Up and up it went, seemingly endless, until they got to the top. They must have been several hundred feet higher than they had been before. _Maybe we're in one of the towers? _Buffy thought as she got off of the stairs, slightly dizzy.

"Professor Dippet should still be up," Dumbledore said to her before he knocked on the door.

"Come in," said a voice from the other side of the door. Dumbledore turned the knob and opened the door, ushering Buffy in before him, closing the door behind him.

"Albus, what seems to be the trouble?" asked the old man seated by the fire. This was obviously an office; there was a desk and a couple of chairs, as well as a large fireplace. He glanced at Buffy, giving her the once-over. "Who is your young friend, Albus?"

"My name is Buffy Summers," Buffy said, before Dumbledore could answer for her. She knew that she'd have to speak eventually; she might as well start off on her own.

"Well Miss Summers, how about you pull up a chair and tell me a little bit about yourself," Dippet said. He picked up a stick that had been sitting on a side table. He waved it, and one of the chairs stationed in front of his desk floated over and landed next to Dippet's chair. _More magic, I guess,_ Buffy thought as she crossed the room. She gingerly sat in the chair offered. Dumbledore followed and conjured a chair of his own, a squishy armchair.

"What brings you to Hogwarts?" Dippet asked, curious.

"To be honest, I don't know," Buffy replied. She took a deep breath. "One minute I was sending my lover to hell, and the next I'm laying on some grass."

"If I hadn't been on one of my evening strolls, she would probably still be there," Dumbledore remarked.

"What do you mean by 'sending your lover to hell'?" Dippet asked. _Oh boy, I've just opened a can of worms here, _Buffy thought. She collected her thoughts for a moment, trying to find a way to explain herself without being too blunt.

"Well…it's like this," she began, not quite sure how much she was allowed to tell without getting into trouble. However, for all she knew, this could all just be one crazy dream and that she could wake up any minute. She decided to just go for it. "In every generation there is a girl chosen to fight demons, vampires, and various other big bads. I fight the darkness."

"That sounds simple enough," said Dippet. "Go on."

"Well, I didn't quite follow the rules. I kind of fell in love with a vampire, but he had a soul. Only I didn't know that if he was truly happy, even for a moment, he would turn into a monster," Buffy continued. "Well, I gave him that moment of happiness, and he turned into a murderous beast. He found the demon Acathla, which creates a portal to hell. Just as the portal was opening, his soul somehow got restored, but it was too late. I…I…"

Up until that point, Buffy had been composed, but as soon as she came to the part where she had to send Angel to hell, she lost all control. The tears started to fall down her face and she couldn't speak anymore. Thankfully, the two men got the idea and didn't press her further.

"I think we've put this girl through enough tonight," Dumbledore said, placing a hand on Buffy's shoulder.

"Too right," Dippet agreed. "Miss Summers, I'm sure you've had a trying day. Would you be willing to speak to me tomorrow about this?"

"I-I think I can manage that," Buffy replied. In reality, she didn't want to talk about it at all, but Dippet spoke in such a way that you couldn't really argue with him. He had a certain way of making a demand sound like a request.

"I know it's hard, but we need as much information from you as possible, to see if we can send you back to wherever you came from," Dumbledore said. It made sense, but that didn't mean Buffy had to like it.

"Where am I going to sleep tonight?" Buffy asked.

"We have some guest quarters just down the corridor from here that are quite cozy," Dippet said. "Professor Dumbledore, if you could show our guest the way?"

"It would be my pleasure," Dumbledore replied. He got up from his seat, and Buffy followed suit.

"Get some sleep, Miss Summers," Dippet said with a warm smile. "I'll see you in the morning."

Buffy nodded, unable to speak. She was suddenly very tired, and wanted nothing more than to bury herself underneath a blanket and go to sleep for a week. What she really wanted was her mother, her friends and Angel, but that wasn't feasible. Her mother had kicked her out, her friends were in Sunnydale, and Angel was in Hell.

Buffy quietly followed Dumbledore out of the office, down the stairs and into the corridor. Dumbledore walked a short distance before stopping in front of a painting of a young girl in a tutu. Because it was late, the subject of the painting was asleep. As Dumbledore tapped on the picture frame, Buffy watched in awe as the painted girl awoke. She glared at Dumbledore, obviously unimpressed with him.

"I'm sorry to wake you, Giselle, but I need access to the room," Dumbledore said apologetically. He gestured to Buffy, who was standing behind him. "We have a guest that needs a place to stay. May we come in?"

Buffy thought it was a little strange to see someone talking to a portrait, and even stranger to see the portrait move and react to the words. The girl in the painting looked at Buffy, and her expression softened slightly. With a nod, Giselle the painting girl made a gesture with her hands and the portrait swung open on a pair of hinges, revealing a doorway.

"These are your rooms, Miss Summers, for as long as you are here," Dumbledore said. "I will leave you now, and I will be back for you in the morning."

"Thank you," Buffy said softly with a grateful smile. Dumbledore returned it with a sad smile of his own before turning and heading down the corridor.

Buffy entered the room, not paying any attention to the décor. The only thing she wanted to find was the bed, and she found that in no time. She flopped face first onto the duvet, and she was asleep before her head hit the pillow.

***

There's chapter 1, folks. Positive feedback is appreciated, constructive criticism is sought after and flames will be used to toast marshmallows. Mmm… marshmallows…


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

_Angelus smiled evilly as he drove the sword into Buffy's gut. She looked at him in shock, her eyes filling with tears._

"_Why?" she asked as the tears started falling down her face._

"_Had to return the favour," Angelus said, cackling evilly as he pushed her into the vortex._

"_NOOOOOO!"_

"No…no…Angel!"

Buffy awoke to someone shaking her. It took her a moment to remember that she wasn't in Sunnydale anymore. She turned to see who had been shaking her; she wasn't surprised to see that it was Dumbledore.

"Restless night, my child?" Dumbledore asked gravely.

"Something like that," Buffy replied as she sat up. "How much did you hear?"

"Enough," Dumbledore replied. "I heard you from the corridor."

Buffy sighed and flopped back down onto the bed. She couldn't believe that she had been so loud that someone could hear her from behind a six inch thick stone wall, although she was appreciative that he had come to wake her up.

"Do you think anyone else heard me?" Buffy asked. She wasn't sure if she wanted anyone else to know what she was dreaming about, and hoped that no one had heard.

"No child, it is still early," Dumbledore replied as he rose from the bedside chair. "Are you ready to see Professor Dippet again?"

"As ready as I'm going to be," Buffy replied. "Could you…ummm…"

"Of course, Miss Summers," Dumbledore replied. "I will be waiting for you outside in the corridor."

"Thank you," Buffy said. She waited until she heard the portrait click closed before getting out of bed. Since she didn't get the chance the night before, Buffy took a moment to explore her surroundings a little.

She was housed in a beautiful room, filled with antiques and dark woods. The bed was king-sized four poster with high thread count sheets and a velvet comforter. The colours of the room were subtle, reds, greens, yellows and blues. In one corner was a wardrobe, and in another was a door. Buffy went to it and opened it cautiously.

Behind the door was a bathroom, but not just any bathroom. It was large with lots of white marble; the bathtub (more like a small pool) was sunk into the middle of the floor with four different taps along the edges. The sink was a pedestal sink, mounted underneath a large mirror. It was brightly lit with glowing orbs, though Buffy wasn't sure what the source of the light was. She assumed it was magic.

She went over to the sink and looked at her reflection in the mirror. As she expected, she looked haggard and tired; her face was pale, there were dark circles under her eyes and her hair was a mess. _Well, I guess I can do something about the hair, _Buffy thought as she took the elastic holding her hair back out. She combed her hair a few times with her fingers before putting it up in a messy bun.

Satisfied with her appearance, Buffy left the bathroom and crossed the bedroom to the portrait hole. She exited the room, and as she expected Dumbledore was standing watch. What she didn't expect was another person, a young man, dressed in a robe and what looked like a school uniform. He looked to be in his late teens, and he had dark hair, dark eyes and pale skin.

"There you are, Miss Summers," Dumbledore said with a smile and a twinkle in his eye. "I was wondering when you were going to join us."

Buffy smiled slightly in return, but didn't say anything. Instead she looked curiously at the strange boy, who was looking at her with equal curiosity.

"Professor Dippet has asked that our Slytherin sixth-year Prefect, Tom Riddle, take you to his office this morning, as I have to get ready to teach my classes this morning," Dumbledore said. Buffy got the feeling that Dumbledore didn't agree with this arrangement, even though she couldn't figure out why. The boy seemed pretty normal, if a little intense.

"Fine with me," Buffy replied with a shrug. She turned to Tom, who was standing off to the side a little. "What do I call you?"

"Tom is fine, or Mr Riddle, if you prefer," the boy, Tom, replied. Buffy snorted, trying to cover up a laugh. "What's so funny?"

"Your name just reminds me of a Batman villain," Buffy replied, trying to compose herself. Both Dumbledore and Tom stared at her blankly. "Come on, the Dark Knight? The Caped Crusader?"

"I'm sorry, but I've never heard of him," Tom said softly.

"Okay," Buffy said with a shrug. She was used to it, having been around Giles for any amount of time.

"Shall we go, Miss Summers?" Tom asked, offering his arm to her.

"Sure," Buffy replied, taking his arm. "Though if I get to call you Tom, you have to call me Buffy. If you call me Miss Summers, it makes me feel like I'm in trouble. And a little old."

"Fair enough…Buffy," Tom said with a little smile of amusement. Buffy took the offered arm, and together the pair made their way down the corridor to Professor Dippet's office.

"I really hope I'm wrong this time," Dumbledore said with a sigh as he went down the corridor in the direction of his classroom.

"Well, I leave you here," Tom said at the top of the spiral staircase. "Will you be staying at the school?"

"To be honest with you, I have no idea," Buffy replied. "That's why I'm talking to Professor Dippet."

"I see," Tom said with a nod of understanding. "Well, I hope to see you again, Miss Summers…Buffy."

Tom turned and went back down the spiral staircase, leaving Buffy alone in front of the office door. Taking a deep breath, Buffy tapped on the door three times and waited for some sort of response.

"Come in," said a faint voice from the other side of the thick wooden door. Buffy opened the door and entered the office. "Close the door behind you, Miss Summers."

Buffy did as she was told before scanning the room to find Professor Dippet. He was sitting in almost the exact same place as he had been the night before; the only thing that had changed was his clothes. Even the two chairs that had been placed across from him were still there. Buffy sat down in the squishy armchair Dumbledore had conjured, believing that it would be more comfortable than the other chair. Good thing her belief was right.

"How did you sleep, my dear? Dippet asked. "Were the rooms to your liking?"

"They were great, thank you," Buffy said with a small smile of gratitude. She didn't want to mention that she barely slept a wink, but Dippet could probably tell. Buffy had seen herself in the mirror, and she knew that she didn't look like a beauty queen.

"Now, let's get straight to it, shall we?" Dippet said. He had a piece of old-looking paper on a small table next to his chair. Along with that was, oddly enough, an inkpot and a quill. "I need as much detail from you as possible."

"All right," Buffy replied, taking a deep breath. She supposed it wouldn't hurt; after all, it seemed like Dippet only wanted to help her. "I was fighting a vampire, who was trying to raise the demon Acathla and the portal to hell he caused. As we were fighting, the portal was beginning to open. It got so big that the only way there would be enough blood to close it would be to push the vampire into the portal. I was about to give the dying blow, and something came over him. It was like…he was good again. Unfortunately, it was too late and I had to kill him. I drove my sword into his gut and the force pushed him into the portal. There was a really bright light, and when it went away I was laying on the grass outside."

"Interesting," Dippet said, scribbling away. "A 'good' vampire, you say? I've always been under the impression that vampires were soulless, bloodsucking fiends."

"Most of them are," Buffy replied. "But Angel…he was different. He had a soul."

"A vampire with a soul," Dippet said with a small nod. By this time he was finished scribbling and was sitting back in his chair. He stroked his beard in a pensive manner, and Buffy fidgeted nervously. "A vampire and a—slayer, was it? Intriguing, I must say. I am wondering, though…how is it that this vampire had a soul? From my studies and understanding, vampires are soulless."

"That's how he started out," Buffy replied. She wasn't sure if she was supposed to divulge Angel's past; after all, it was his past and not hers. However, Buffy decided to risk it anyway. "Angel was sired in the mid-1700s. I'm not sure of the date, and he never told me. Anyway, for about 150 years he terrorized Europe, until he ended up in Romania. There, he messed with the wrong family, a gypsy family. He killed a girl from that family, and the family cursed him with gypsy magic. They cursed him with a soul, so that he would have to relive anything bad he's ever done. For the past hundred years he's been wandering and broody, until he met me."

"Very intriguing," Dippet repeated. "But I wonder…you say that he was turned in the middle of the 18th century, and was vicious until the late 19th or early 20th century."

"That's right," Buffy replied, wondering what the problem could be with that explanation.

"If that is the case," Dippet continued, stroking his chin, "wouldn't it mean that Angel has had a soul for less than fifty years? Your assertion that he has been wandering for approximately a hundred years is rather perplexing."

"Well, it's June 1998, isn't it?" Buffy asked. She was beginning to get confused, a feeling she didn't like at all.

"Dear child, no!" Dippet exclaimed with a small chuckle. He reached over and patted Buffy on the hand. "It's October 1943."

The last thing Buffy remembered seeing was Dippet's rather worried looking face.

Buffy struggled to open her eyes. It was a struggle; the lights were so bright, and the darkness was comfortable. She could hear voices, muffled and soft as if whoever was talking didn't want to wake her. Buffy stirred a little, discovering that she was laying on something soft, probably a bed. Braving the bright light, Buffy opened her eyes.

She wasn't in the room she had spent the night in. The room she was in now was white and sterile smelling, with several beds arranged in two parallel rows along each wall.

A hospital.

Buffy got up and was about to leave of her own accord when she felt a pair of strong hands on her shoulders, pushing her down. She struggled for a moment before looking up, finding the gentle, caring eyes of Albus Dumbledore in front of her. Sighing in defeat, Buffy lay back down onto the bed.

"You gave us quite a scare, Miss Summers," Dippet said, startling Buffy a little. She hadn't realized he was there. "I am assuming you were not expecting to be transported to 1943?"

"You could say that," Buffy grumbled, sitting up again. Dumbledore was ready to push her back down, but Buffy just gave him a look that told him she wasn't going anywhere. "How the hell did I go back in time 56 years? Time travel is supposed to be very unstable, nearly impossible!"

"It is," Dumbledore said. He sat by Buffy's bedside, next to Dippet. "Professor Dippet and I were wondering how you did it."

"I honestly couldn't tell you," Buffy replied. "I just know that I pushed Angel into the portal after shoving a sword through his gut I ended up here, on the lawn."

"I see," Dippet said. "Well, until we figure out how to get you back, you may have to stay here for a while. The time travel methods available to us now only allow you to go back or forward a few hours at most. Even then, it's very unstable and in the experimental phases."

"So in other words, I'm stuck here," Buffy said bleakly. "And I have no way of getting home."

"That's about it," Dumbledore said with a sad sigh. He smiled at Buffy, trying to reassure her; unfortunately, it wasn't working. "You are very welcome to stay at the castle as our guest, and take advantage of whatever amenities we have."

Dippet gave Dumbledore a strange look; Buffy supposed that Dumbledore hadn't consulted with his superior before offering her a place to stay.

"And if you don't want to stay at the castle, we will gladly put you up in one of the inns in Hogsmeade, or the Leaky Cauldron in London if you prefer," Dippet added hopefully. Buffy thought for a moment; while staying in a hotel on her own did sound rather appealing, there was a certain allure about staying in a magic castle.

"I think I'll stay at the castle," Buffy replied. Dumbledore smiled warmly at her, as did Dippet, though Dippet's smile seemed a little forced.

"Excellent choice," Dumbledore said with an enthusiastic nod.

"You can audit some of the classes, if you like," Dippet said, not wanting to be outdone. "I'm sure you might even be able to participate in things that are largely theory based, like Potions or Arithmacy or History of Magic."

"Sounds like a plan," Buffy replied. Even though she may not get to go home for a long time, it seemed like the prognosis of her stay was beginning to look up. In any case, it was obvious that she had some allies in this time.

"Can I ask you something?" Buffy asked, turning to Dumbledore. The old man nodded, encouraging her to continue. "Can I get out of this hospital and back into some normal clothes?"

"I see no reason that shouldn't be allowed," Dippet said. "I'm sure we can figure something out in regards to your wardrobe. You'll be needing more than just the clothes on your back."

"Fair enough," Buffy replied. "Can we get out of here, like, now? It's just that I really, really hate hospitals."

"Let me just clear it with the nurse," Dippet said. As he left, Dumbledore handed Buffy her clothes and drew the curtain around her bed so that she would have a little bit of privacy. After a quick change, Buffy was ready to leave. Dumbledore ushered her out, watching to make sure Dippet wasn't coming back any time soon. Quickly, she left the hospital wing; she did not want to be there when Dippet and the nurse came back, just in case she was not actually allowed to leave.

There's chapter 2. As usual, positive feedback is nice, constructive criticism is sought after, speculation may or may not be confirmed, and flames will be used to be toast marshmallows. I do my best to reply to all of my reviews, even if it is just a simple "THANK YOU". I do get picky about revealing things in review replies, and more often than not will not answer questions if they will reveal plot points, so please do not ask them.s


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"This wasn't quite what I had in mind," Buffy said as she surveyed her reflection in the mirror. She wrinkled her nose at her reflection; the clothes she was wearing was not what she would have picked out. Ever.

Instead of pants and a cute shirt, like she was used to, Buffy was dressed in some sort of school uniform. Instead of what she had on when she arrived, Buffy was wearing knee-length gray dress, gray knee socks, a white collared blouse and a black necktie. Very drab, very boring and very unflattering. Dumbledore's eyes had twinkled merrily when he told her that there was nothing else in the castle but the student uniform.

"I look like a little kid," she whined, though there was no one in the room with her. At least, that's what she thought.

"Oh, you look like a little angel, dearie."

Buffy whirled around, wondering who – or what – had spoken.

"Who's there?" Buffy asked, a small amount of fear lurking in her voice. Buffy was the Slayer, but she was still somewhat afraid of things she could not see. "Who said that?"

"It was me, sweetie," said the female voice. Buffy looked around and saw no one. "It's the mirror."

Buffy examined the mirror closely, wondering what was going on. Was someone magically trapped in the mirror? With what she had seen in her life, it wouldn't be all that surprising to her. However, no other images came through except for her own reflection.

"What are you looking for?" the voice in the mirror asked, sounding more than a little annoyed. "Haven't you ever seen a magic mirror before?"

"No, I haven't," Buffy replied.

"Oh, you must be a Muggle, then," the mirror said. Buffy arched an eyebrow at the mirror. She knew it meant a non magical person; Dumbledore had explained some of the terminology to her a little while walking her back to her room the previous afternoon, but Buffy didn't think that quite described her. However, she didn't really want to tell anyone else about her Slayer-ness, even if it was just a mirror.

"Something like that," Buffy replied. She was still in slight disbelief; after all, she was carrying on a conversation with a magic mirror.

"Humph, security must be getting lax," the mirror huffed. "Back when I was first made, Muggles _never_..."

Buffy turned her attention to the door, effectively tuning out the mirror's rant; someone was knocking on it, and she wanted to know who it was. Besides the two professors and the Riddle kid, no one knew Buffy was there.

At least, that's what she hoped. Buffy didn't quite feel up to dealing with people staring at her. Not yet, anyway.

Buffy crossed the room and opened the door to her quarters, slightly surprised to see Tom Riddle standing in the corridor. He stood proud and tall and nearly emotionless; the only sign of emotion on him was a small, amused curve of his lips when he laid eyes on Buffy.

"Something amusing you?" Buffy asked, arching an eyebrow. She already knew she looked ridiculous, and didn't really need a reminder.

"No, no, nothing at all," Tom said, schooling his features so that the only sign of amusement that was showing on his face was the sparkle in his eye. Buffy 'hmphed' and glared at him, wondering what he was doing there, at her room, first thing in the morning.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, placing her hands on her hips.

"Professor Dippet called a prefect's meeting last night and asked if one of us would like to volunteer to show you around," Tom replied, smiling a little as Buffy groaned. "Don't worry, he didn't identify you by name, although I doubt that will stop the rumours at all."

"That's what I was afraid of," Buffy said with a groan. "Do you think anyone would notice if I hid in my room all day? I really don't want to deal with people right now."

"Professor Dippet was hoping that you would join the rest of the school for breakfast," Tom replied with a shrug. "I tried to argue with him, plead your case and see if I could buy you some time, but I was unsuccessful. If it makes you feel any better, you can sit at my house table instead of up with the teachers like Professor Dippet had suggested."

"Thanks, but no, it doesn't make me feel any better," Buffy replied. She wanted to get this guy away from her; now that her mind was a little more clear, her Slayer senses were coming back. While the entire castle put her on edge, probably because of all the magic, Tom Riddle made her feel on edge. The less time she spent around him, the easier this foray into the past would be. She hoped, anyway. "Look, I'm not that hungry. I'll be fine, I'm sure I can find the kitchen or something later if my stomach starts rumbling."

It was just then that Buffy's stomach gave a rather loud and embarrassing gurgle, one she was sure Tom and anyone else who had been wandering the corridors had heard. Tom snickered a little, obviously amused by the situation.

"You're a terrible liar, you know," Tom said. Buffy huffed; she didn't like being called a liar, even if just a terrible one, and even if it was true.

"Good to know," Buffy replied. "I'm still not going down to breakfast."

She closed the portrait on him then, slightly surprised that he didn't put his foot in the way to stop it from closing. Just as well; Tom not asserting himself just made her life a whole lot easier. Maybe whoever ran the kitchens would realize that she didn't go down for breakfast with anyone else and send her meals up. After all, that was how it had worked for the past day or so when she had been in her room. One minute she was minding her own business, reading, thinking, sitting near the window and staring out at nothing, and the next there was a platter of food. She didn't feel like eating most of the time, so she normally just picked at it, taking a couple of bites of eggs at breakfast, a few spoonfuls of soup at lunch and a couple of scoops of shepherd's pie at dinner time. In fact, this morning had been the first time her stomach had given any indication that she was hungry at all.

Buffy must have been brooding and thinking longer than she had thought, because someone started pounding on the door again. Sighing and rolling her eyes, she got up and grabbed the book she had been thumbing through the previous day, studiously ignoring the pounding at her door. It was only until she heard a female's voice in her room that Buffy looked up.

"Excuse me, miss?"

Buffy searched the room, trying to find the source of the voice. It didn't take her long; the girl in the portrait guarding her room, Giselle, had somehow made her way into another painting that was in her room.

"What's up?" Buffy asked. _Dear God I'm talking to a painting, _she thought, giggling a little. _I must be going crazy or something._

"I don't want to disturb you, but there are two professors outside pounding on the door, demanding to be let in," Giselle said timidly. Buffy arched an eyebrow at the girl; what part of 'go away, I don't want to deal with people' didn't these guys understand? It wasn't as if she was trying to be ungrateful, but it was a heavy order if they expected her to just come out and deal with however many students and their curious stares when all she wanted to do was curl up in a ball and cry. She hadn't resorted to that in her waking hours, but more than once she'd woken in the middle of the night and felt the dampness of her tears on the pillow.

"Fine, I'll go deal with them," Buffy said. _If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself I suppose,_ she thought with another sigh as she marched to the portrait hole and pushed the now-empty portrait out so that it opened into the hallway.

"Oh good, you're up," Dippet said, a relieved smile spreading across his face. "Tom gave us a bit of a fright when he told us you refused to come out of your room." He shot an indulgent smile at the Prefect, who was standing a short distance away from the professors. He smirked at Buffy and held his hand up in a wave of greeting. Buffy tried not to glare at him and resisted the urge to march over there and smack the smirk off of his face.

"Did he also tell you that I really wasn't up to dealing with large crowds of people right now?" Buffy asked, wondering what the boy had told them.

"Not as such, no," Dippet said, waving a hand as if to dismiss the comment. "Must have slipped his mind, I suppose."

_Sure it did, _Buffy thought, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. She glanced over at Dumbledore, whose face was a mask of seriousness except for the slight twinkle in his blue eyes.

"It's just as well we're all here," Dippet continued, seeming to get a little flustered with the turn of events. "I had planned on talking to you after breakfast, but now works fine I suppose."

Buffy looked beyond Dippet and Dumbledore. Tom looked extremely interested now, not that Buffy blamed him. If some random person had arrived at Sunnydale High School mysteriously and Snyder was trying to keep it a secret, Buffy would be interested and curious too. Then again, mysterious appearances and secret keeping usually triggered some ingrained Slayer alarm that Buffy had yet to disable.

"Mr. Riddle, don't you have a class to be getting to?" Dumbledore asked pointedly. Buffy decided she liked the Transfiguration right then and there when she saw a flash of something in Tom's eyes before he turned on his heel and marched away.

"Would you like for us to conduct this meeting in my office, or would you prefer to have it here?" Dippet asked.

"Definitely here," Buffy replied immediately, thinking about how she didn't want anyone to actually see her. She had no doubts that rumours about her had already been spreading; she didn't trust Tom as far as Willow could throw him. Even if he hadn't blabbed, the other Prefects and the Head Boy and Girl knew about her as well. Teenagers weren't the most trustworthy when it came to juicy gossip, no matter how good they had to be to get the status of Prefect, and it really only took one to open their mouth before word spread like wildfire.

Dippet nodded in agreement at Buffy's choice and she ushered the two professors into her room, checking the hallway before closing the door behind them. The two men had already settled themselves on the sofa by the fireplace, leaving Buffy with the chair opposite them.

"So, what's up?" Buffy asked, wondering what the professors wanted.

"I'm not sure I follow," Dippet said, looking confused. Buffy sighed; she'd have to start speaking properly instead of explaining herself all the time. That might take a little practice, but it was better than having to explain herself all of the time. Even back home, Giles had picked up on her language and she rarely had to translate.

"I mean, what do you want to talk about?" Buffy asked, curious. She wondered what more these two men had to say; after all, they sort of decided whether or not she could stick around or not.

"I have been considering everything that you have said," Dippet began. "You have to understand, even in this world, that hearing about a girl who has the strength and skill to kill not only vampires, but demons as well, is a little on the fantastical side. I did a little bit of research, trying to find anything and everything I could about the Slayer. The thing is, Miss Summers… the Slayer, as you describe her, isn't supposed to exist."

Buffy sat for a moment, not quite sure what to say or think. People either heard of her, or they hadn't, but they never said that she wasn't supposed to exist.

"What do you mean, I'm not _supposed_ to exist?" Buffy asked warily, not sure if she wanted to hear the answer.

"The Slayer is a legend in our world," Dippet said. "You have to understand, Miss Summers, that because we have magic we are in no need of a mystical warrior to protect us from the forces of darkness. There have been tales from our ancestors about a young woman who fought demons and the like, but this was over a thousand years ago before our magic became what it is today. There are no modern accounts of a Slayer, at least in our world. I'm sorry, dear."

"Why are you apologizing?" Buffy asked, tilting her head to the side in curiosity. "It's not your fault I'm not supposed to exist in this dimension."

"Perhaps it is just this community that you are not a part of," Dumbledore continued. "The Slayer once was known and a part of this world, but once our magic started to strengthen and we found our own ways to combat the forces of darkness, the magical community cut ties with the Watcher's Council and the Slayer was then dedicated to protecting the Muggle world. If you like, I could help you do some research, see if this is your dimension or another one entirely."

Buffy beamed at him; she decided then and there that she liked Dumbledore very much, mostly because he was willing to help her despite the fact that he hardly knew her. The fact that Dippet made a concentrated effort not to look extremely annoyed whenever Dumbledore spoke didn't hurt much. Much like Riddle, Buffy didn't trust Dippet, although she couldn't put her finger on it.

"As well, I could ask our Head Girl to show you around the castle when she is finished her classes today, if you like," Dumbledore added. "Miss McGonagall is very knowledgeable about the castle and its history; I'm sure she wouldn't mind giving you the grand tour."

"Sure, I'd like that," Buffy replied with a grin.

"But Mr. Riddle has already volunteered to be Miss Summers' guide," Dippet interjected. Buffy had almost forgotten the older man had been there; strange how that happened.

"I'm sure Mr. Riddle has more important things to do than show someone around the castle," Dumbledore replied. "Besides, I'm sure Miss Summers would be much more comfortable with a female companion." Buffy wasn't sure, but she could have sworn that she saw Dumbledore wink at her. It was so quick that she almost missed it.

"Oh all right… fine," Dippet said, although it was obvious that he didn't agree with it. It was obvious to Buffy that even though Dippet was supposed to be the head honcho around here, Dumbledore carried far too much weight and influenced far too many decisions. Not that she minded; she had a feeling that if Dippet had his way, Buffy probably wouldn't be staying in the castle or getting guided tours of said castle by the Head Girl or given clothes to wear.

"I think that's everything, isn't it Armando?" Dumbledore asked, rising from his seat. Dippet followed suit, glaring at the slightly younger professor as he did so.

"Yes, I believe it is, Albus," Dippet agreed. He turned and swept out of the room first, obviously miffed at Dumbledore.

"I'll send Miss McGonagall down when she's finished her classes this afternoon," Dumbledore said with a smile. "Until then, you're welcome to read anything in the room, but I would not suggest wandering too far. The portraits have eyes, ears and mouths that they seem to have a hard time keeping shut. If you don't want to be seen or talked about before this afternoon, it would be a good idea to stay in here. The house elves will bring you some breakfast shortly, and some lunch when the time comes."

"Thank you," Buffy said, grateful for the hospitality. "This means a lot to me."

"It's no trouble, child," Dumbledore said with a grandfatherly smile and a twinkle of his eyes before he turned and left the room, shutting the portrait behind him.

Buffy decided that now was a good a time as any to start looking at some of the books on the bookshelf. Hmm… _Hogwarts, a History_ looks interesting, she thought as she picked took the book from the shelf and curled up in her chair, getting lost in the book.

***

Chapter three, folks. As always, positive feedback is nice, constructive criticism sought after and flames will be used to make a bonfire. I refuse to answer questions about speculation; you'll just have to wait like everyone else.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Buffy awoke, startled, when she heard a tapping on her door. Must have dozed off, she thought as she groaned and stretched. She had fallen asleep sometime after lunch, curled up in her chair at an awkward position, _Hogwarts, A History_ still laying open in her lap. As such, even though she had only been asleep for a couple of hours at most, she was a little stiff.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," Buffy said as someone knocked on her door again, crossing the room to her wardrobe. Bypassing the sensible Mary Jane shoes that had provided for her, along with the uniform and the knee socks, Buffy's gaze landed on the pair of knee high black boots she had been wearing when she had landed, the only thing that hadn't been taken by the house elves.

Grabbing the boots, Buffy she slipped them on over top of the knee socks she had put on that morning, tucking her socks in so that they didn't show over the tops of the boots. While definitely not the height of fashion by any means – Cordelia would be having a field day if she ever saw Buffy dressed like this – the boots gave the outfit a slight edge that would be absent if Buffy had worn the sensible Mary Janes.

Buffy walked to the portrait hole, slightly nervous, and cautiously opened the door just in case Tom was standing there. She knew Dumbledore had said he was sending the Head Girl, but Dippet was still supposedly in charge and he could easily override Dumbledore.

To Buffy's relief, Riddle was not the one banging on her door, but a young woman who appeared to be around Buffy's age. She was pretty and stood at least three inches taller than Buffy's usual five foot two, but since Buffy's boots had a slight heel, it closed the distance in their heights and made Buffy seem only an inch and a half shorter. She had long black hair tied away from her face in a braid that fell about halfway down her back. Her eyes were sharp and grey in color, sparkling with barely contained mischief and curiosity. She was dressed much like Buffy was, but instead of a black tie, hers was burgundy and gold striped, and she was wearing a robe and those sensible Mary Janes.

"Miss Summers?" she asked. Buffy nodded.

"Miss McGonagall?" Buffy asked, mostly because she didn't have anything else to go by; Dumbledore hadn't mentioned this girl's first name. "But please, call me Buffy. When someone calls me Miss Summers, I feel like I'm in trouble or something."

"If I can call you Buffy, then you must call me Minerva," the girl, henceforth dubbed as Minerva, replied with a warm smile. "I feel much the same about being called Miss McGonagall."

"Get in trouble a lot, then?" Buffy asked with an arch of an eyebrow as she exited her room and joined Minerva in the corridor, closing the door behind her.

"Only when I get caught," Minerva replied with a grin and a wink. "Shall we? Professor Dumbledore had a long list of things for me to show you before I dropped you off at his office on the seventh floor and I want to get through most of them before I have to do that."

"Can't wait to get rid of me, huh?" Buffy asked, trying to sound good-natured but failing miserably. The fact that her own mother had kicked her out still stung horribly, and even though she didn't know this girl at all, the fact that she wanted to pawn her off on someone else so quickly kind of hurt.

"No, no, nothing like that," Minerva replied quickly. "I just thought that you might want to learn about the castle and everything in it before you were let loose on your own. It's definitely going to take more than one afternoon for you to learn the ropes, so the more you pick up on the better."

"Fair enough," Buffy said, accepting the explanation for now.

"Let's get started, I think you're really going to like it here," Minerva said with a grin as she started making her way down the corridor. Buffy followed, keeping up with the other girl's quick pace. "You're currently on the second floor, where the guest quarters are. Gryffindors and Ravenclaws have dormitories in the towers, Hufflepuffs and Slytherins live in the dungeons. Teachers are scattered around the castle, their quarters usually connecting with their offices so that they can be available day or night."

"Good to know," Buffy replied. She was curious about something, and although Hogwarts, A History covered it a bit, she hadn't gotten very far before falling asleep and now that Minerva had mentioned the houses, the question rose in her mind again. "Could you maybe explain the house system to me?"

"Sure," Minerva replied, her eyes shining a little as she talked animatedly. "The houses were named after the four founders, Godric Gryffindor, Rowena Ravenclaw, Helga Hufflepuff and Salazar Slytherin. Back at the start of the school, the founders hand picked the students they wanted to teach; Gryffindor wanted the ones who were brave, Ravenclaw wanted the ones who were smart, Hufflepuff wanted the ones with a good work ethic and Slytherin wanted the cunning ones. Gryffindor was the one who realized that while witches and wizards lived longer than Muggles, they wouldn't be around forever. So he and the other founders figured out a way to charm Gryffindor's hat so that it could pick out the students that best suited the personalities the founders preferred. To this day, new students have Gryffindor's hat placed on their heads, and it decides what house they belong in."

"That's… kind of creepy, really," Buffy said, wrinkling her nose slightly. "I mean, if you think about it, it's a possessed hat rooting around in your head to decide your fate. No thanks."

"Well, if you put it that way…" Minerva said, pensive for a moment. "I suppose you'd be correct. Everyone has a certain expectation of each house. If you're a Slytherin, people assume you're evil. If you're a Hufflepuff, people expect you to be a pushover, and so on and so forth."

"And what are you?" Buffy asked.

"Me?" Minerva asked. "I'm a Gryffindor."

"And Tom Riddle?" Buffy asked, curious.

"Oh, him," Minerva said with a wrinkle of her nose. "I assume you've had the pleasure?"

"Yeah, we've met," Buffy replied. "Although I wouldn't call it a pleasurable experience. So, what is he? No, wait, let me guess… he's a Slyther-whatsit, isn't he?"

"A Slytherin, yes," Minerva said, sniffing a little in disdain at Buffy's mistake. "Personification of a snake if I ever saw one."

"He's really that bad, huh?" Buffy said.

"Worse," Minerva replied. "And the worst part is, the teachers are completely blind to him! Most of us, especially the older students, know Riddle's true colours, but since he's so charming and so perfect in front of the teachers no one believes any of us!"

"Don't worry, I don't think all of the teachers see him that way," Buffy said as they continued walking. She had a feeling that Dumbledore could see through Riddle's façade, something she was eternally grateful for.

"How do you know?" Minerva said, looking at Buffy sharply. It was obvious that she didn't believe Buffy.

"Well, there's always at least one teacher that can see through the crap, right?" Buffy said, her mind instantly going to Giles. She felt a pang of homesickness hit her then, realizing that she may not get to see her family and friends again.

"I suppose you're right," Minerva conceded. Buffy got the feeling that this girl didn't like admitting that other people were right.

Just then a loud, sad moan echoed through the hallway as Buffy and Minerva walked through a puddle. Buffy glanced at the floor; sure enough, about half an inch of water covered the floor, and it appeared to be coming from underneath a door.

"What the hell was that?" Buffy asked, glancing at Minerva.

"This bathroom's been like that since last year, when…" Minerva trailed off, swallowing hard.

"When what?" Buffy asked, glancing at the other girl. It was obvious that she found it difficult to speak about whatever had happened in there.

"It's been like that since… since someone found Myrtle's body in there last year," Minerva replied softly. "She was a third year Hufflepuff. We think she might be haunting the bathroom, but everyone's too scared to go in there."

"Let's leave her in peace then," Buffy said, shivering slightly. Ghosts scared the crap out of Buffy, having been possessed by one the previous school year and she didn't quite feel comfortable being near another one, and probably wouldn't be any time soon.

"Good idea," Minerva said. The two girls quickened their pace, sloshing through the water as fast as they could. As soon as they were free of the water and on dry ground again, Buffy looked down at her boots and frowned.

"I hope that didn't ruin my boots," she said, turning her foot every which way to inspect the aforementioned article of clothing. It didn't look damaged at first glance, but things could arise after the leather dried.

"Those aren't standard uniform issue, are they?" asked Minerva, examining the boots.

"Nope," Buffy replied. "I'm not a student, just visiting."

"Then why are you wearing the uniform?" Minerva asked, arching an eyebrow. Buffy began to sweat; she and Dippet hadn't gone through a cover story for her to stick to.

"Because she wanted to immerse herself in the Hogwarts culture," another voice interjected. Buffy spun around, and was very relieved to see Dumbledore standing there. "Isn't that right, Miss Summers?"

"Yes Professor Dumbledore, that's correct," Buffy said, catching on immediately. She may be blonde, but she was far from dumb.

"Oh, I see," Minerva said, her eyes narrowing a little in suspicion. Dumbledore patted the Head Girl on the shoulder reassuringly.

"Would you mind it terribly if I joined you on your tour?" he asked.

Minerva looked at Buffy, who just shrugged and nodded. In all truthfulness, she was glad that Dumbledore had stumbled upon them just then. They hadn't gone through a cover story, and Dumbledore seemed to be much more adept at thinking on his feet. Not that Buffy couldn't, but it was just easier for her to let him take the lead on this; he was, after all, much more familiar with this world and this time and this school, and therefore he'd probably be able to make up a much more plausible cover story than she could.

"I suppose it's all right," Minerva said.

And that was the beginning of Dumbledore's show stealing, although Buffy was sure Minerva didn't mind much. Dumbledore had a gift for storytelling and a memory to match. Every time they happened on some landmark or another, he had a story to tell. He even had one about the bathroom; Dumbledore had had to relieve himself in the middle of the night, and instead of happening on a restroom he found a room full of chamber pots.

"Potty humour, just what I needed," Buffy said with a giggle. It felt good to laugh, even though most of the time it felt like she wasn't going to be happy for a while. She missed her friends, and her mother. And Giles, can't forget Giles.

"Well, here is my office, Miss Summers," Dumbledore said as the trio stopped in front of a large oak door.

"Is there anything else you need for me, Professor Dumbledore sir?" Minerva asked.

"No, no my dear, although I may call upon you to show Miss Summers back to her room when I'm done with her," Dumbledore replied. Minerva nodded and turned, strolling away and leaving Buffy alone with Dumbledore. "Would you care to step into my office?"

"O-okay," Buffy said, stammering a little. She was having flashbacks to when she first arrived in Sunnydale and Principal Flutie had asked her to see him in his office. While she knew that he didn't want to make her feel uncomfortable when talking about her past, rehashing things that she'd done really made her realize how much she'd screwed up before coming to Sunnydale. She just hoped Dumbledore wouldn't do the same thing.

"Come in, sit," said Dumbledore, gesturing to the squishy armchair in front of his desk. Buffy gingerly sat down on the edge of the seat, more than a little nervous. "Would you like some tea?"

"Only if you're making some for yourself," Buffy replied.

"Cream? Sugar?" Dumbledore asked; Buffy nodded 'yes' for both. Waving his wand, two teacups magically appeared on the desk. Gingerly taking her cup, Buffy took an experimental sniff. "I haven't drugged it, you know. Drink up, it will make you feel better."

"I wasn't…" Buffy stared before seeing the merry twinkle in Dumbledore's blue eyes. Buffy blushed a little in embarrassment when she realized he was joking with her. _A teacher who can joke, who woulda thunk it?_ she thought as she sipped her tea.

"You're probably wondering why I asked you here," Dumbledore said, steepling his fingers and gazing at her over his half moon spectacles.

"As long as I'm not in trouble, I'm not too worried," Buffy replied with a shrug.

"Why would you be in trouble, child?" Dumbledore asked, puzzled. "You've barely left your room."

"Hey, there's some people back home who would have suspended me for breathing too loudly," Buffy replied with a small smile. She was right, Snyder probably would have suspended her for breathing too loudly if he thought he could get away with it.

"Dreadful thought," Dumbledore said absently. He sat there, looking pensive, for a few long moments before speaking again. "What do you know of magic, Miss Summers? From your own dimension, I mean."

"Most magicks are done by invoking the magic and energy of the earth, or calling upon the gods and goddesses to do your work," Buffy replied. "I don't know a lot about it, Giles and Willow were more of the mojo makers."

"Mojo makers?" asked Dumbledore curiously.

"Mojo is magic, magic is mojo," Buffy clarified.

"Ah, I see. Very clever way of naming it," Dumbledore said sagely. "But you… you haven't practiced any magic?"

"I'm more of a hand-to-hand kind of gal," Buffy replied with a shrug.

"Would you like to learn?" Dumbledore asked. "Provided you have the aptitude for it, of course."

"No, absolutely not," Buffy said vehemently. Dumbledore blinked, surprised at Buffy's fervent refusal of his offer. Most Muggles would jump at the chance to learn magic… didn't they? Then again, he had temporarily forgotten that Buffy wasn't like most Muggles or even really a Muggle at all.

"Why not, child?" Dumbledore asked. He was genuinely curious as to why someone who had magic in her very being, her line created by magic, could be so vehement against it.

"Magic and Buffy don't mix. Period," Buffy replied, crossing her arms and shaking her head. "I won't do it, not after what I've seen."

"What if I told you that the magic we practice is different from the type that you are used to?" Dumbledore asked. "We channel everything through a wand and there are strict tenants against giving undead things their souls back and bringing people back to life and things like that. Will you at the very least see if you have the aptitude for magic? We can make a decision after that, and I'll try not to pressure you into anything you don't want to do."

_Yeah, sure, _try, Buffy thought with a snort. _But I guess it can't hurt to try, right?_ "Sure, I'll give it a whirl," Buffy replied with a shrug.

"Excellent," Dumbledore said, pulling out his own wand and carefully handing it to Buffy. "It won't be attuned to you, but it will react if you are capable of performing wand magic."

Buffy gingerly took the wand, the wood warm in her hand. As soon as she touched it, it felt like the wood began to hum. A few sparks emitted from the tip of the wand as a breeze blew through the office, despite the fact that the windows were closed.

"Well, I think we have our answer right there," Dumbledore said, a pleased smile spreading across his face. Buffy stared at the wand, then at Dumbledore, and then back at the wand.

What had she gotten herself into?


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Buffy stared at the wand for a moment before snapping out of her reverie, dropping the polished piece of wood onto the desk with a clatter.

"I think… I think I have to go," Buffy said quietly, quickly rising to her feet. Even though he was rather spry for his age, Dumbledore was not able to get up fast enough to stop her, and allowed her to leave his office without any hindrances.

Still new to the castle, Buffy was unsure of where she was going and just walked. It was now rather late in the afternoon, close to dinner time, and Buffy didn't see anyone in the corridors as she tried her best to get as far away from Dumbledore's office as fast as she possibly could. She supposed this was a good thing; the fewer people she ran into, the better. Less questions that way.

Buffy didn't realize that she had made it outside until the cool October air hit her in the face. The moving staircases had wigged her out a little when having to traverse them on her own, but she managed somehow. She shivered slightly and wrapped her arms around herself; it was cold outside. Then again, she was used to balmy southern California weather, which this definitely was not.

Walking across the lawn, Buffy made her way to the edge of the lake. She sat on the rocky shore, not noticing or really caring that the smooth stones were hard and cold. She picked one up, weighing it in her hand before throwing it into the lake, watching as it collided with the water and sent ripples from the epicentre.

"She doesn't like that, you know."

Buffy jumped and turned around, wondering who had spoken. Standing about six feet away from her was one of the tallest people she had ever seen. He was at least six and a half feet tall, probably taller, and built like a tank. His face made him look like he was only twelve or thirteen years old, but he couldn't have been that young. Could he?

"Who doesn't like what?" Buffy asked, curious. The extraordinarily large boy shifted his weight from one foot to the other, obviously uncomfortable under Buffy's gaze.

"The squid," the boy said, closing the distance between himself and Buffy and sitting next to her. Even sitting, Buffy felt dwarfed by the boy. _Must be something in the water or something,_ Buffy thought. Then again, Buffy wasn't a large girl by any means and nearly everyone seemed larger than her. "Her name's Calliope, you know. At least, that's what I call her."

"How do you know she doesn't like it?" Buffy asked.

"Would you like it if someone threw rocks through your bedroom window?" the boy asked. "The name's Hagrid, by the way. Rubeus Hagrid, everyone calls me Hagrid though."

"Buffy Summers," Buffy introduced herself with a small smile.

"You don't look familiar," Hagrid remarked after a few moments of comfortable silence. "What house are you in?"

"Oh, I'm not a student," Buffy replied, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. She was looking forward to the day when her clothes came back from wherever they had gone; after only one day of dressing like a student, she was getting fed up with being mistaken for a student. "I'm just visiting; the house elves took my clothes and this is the only thing they had."

"I was a student, you know," Hagrid said suddenly. Buffy turned so that she was facing him.

"Pardon?" she asked, not quite sure if he was speaking to her, or if he was just talking to himself.

"I – ah – used to be a student at Hogwarts," Hagrid repeated, shifting uncomfortably. "Would have been in my fourth year this year if I hadn't been expelled. Gryffindor."

"I got expelled too," Buffy said with a reassuring smile. "I was fifteen and I burned down the school gym; my parents had to find another school for me to go to."

Buffy wondered why she was telling all of these things to someone she had just met and hardly knew. Then again, it was nice to find someone she could finally relate to on some level.

"You mean, there are other schools for magic?" Hagrid asked, his black eyes widening in surprise.

"Oh no, I didn't go to a school for magic," Buffy replied. "Just a regular American high school."

"I wondered why you talked funny," Hagrid said. Buffy laughed for the first time in days, feeling as if a weight had finally been lifted from her chest. "So, you're not a witch, then?"

"Nope," Buffy replied. "Although Dumbledore seems to think I am."

"Then how can you see Hogwarts?" Hagrid asked. "What are you doing here, if you're not a witch?"

"That's a little harder for me to explain," Buffy replied, cursing, once again, the lack of a prefabricated back story that wouldn't get her into trouble. She really needed to discuss this with Dumbledore, assuming that he was still feeling welcoming on her behalf.

"There you are!"

Buffy and Hagrid both turned to see Dumbledore strolling across the lawn, heading in their direction. His already outrageous robes were covered by a bright blue cloak. In his hands was another cloak, black in color, and it looked too small for either Dumbledore or Hagrid, who was wearing a fuzzy brown cloak anyway.

"I was hoping I'd find you eventually," Dumbledore continued as he reached the odd-looking duo. He extended the cloak towards her. "If I'd known you were planning on going outside, I would have given you this. It's cold out, better bundle up. Don't want you catching a chill."

Buffy got to her feet and dusted herself off before gingerly taking the cloak from Dumbledore. Cautiously, she swung it over her shoulders and did up the clasp.

"The cloak doesn't bite, you know," Dumbledore said. Buffy looked up to see that his blue eyes were twinkling. "Thank you, Mr. Hagrid, for making Buffy feel welcome around here. I'm sure she appreciates it; I know I do."

"It was nothing, Professor Dumbledore sir," Hagrid said with a large, toothy grin. "It was nice meetin' you, Miss Summers."

"It's Buffy," Buffy corrected him with a smile. If possible, Hagrid's smile widened further as a pink flush crossed his cheeks before he waved goodbye and headed towards a small shack several hundred feet away.

"Come Miss Summers, let's go inside," Dumbledore said, patting Buffy on the shoulder. "I feel we have much to discuss."

Buffy sighed, but she knew he was right. After the display in Dumbledore's office, she needed to figure out what she was going to do next, and Dumbledore was her best bet with getting help with that. Unfortunately for Buffy, she was short of allies in this dimension – world – time – whatever this place was, and it was already beginning to wear on her.

"Looking forward to it," Buffy said with a nervous smile.

"Come along now, there's nothing to be worried about," Dumbledore said, his eyes continuing to twinkle. He turned and began making his way towards the castle, not looking back to make sure Buffy was following. _Confident, isn't he?_ Buffy thought as she hurried to keep up.

"Would you like to join me in the Great Hall for dinner?" Dumbledore asked once they had reached the main doors of the castle. "It was actually the reason why I had come to find you; I know you hadn't eaten much in the last couple of days and there is nothing better than a meal in the Great Hall prepared by the Hogwarts house elves."

"Do I have much of a choice?" Buffy asked.

"You always have a choice, my dear," Dumbledore said. "But remember… you'll have to face the rest of the school eventually. The longer you put it off, the harder it will be. Besides, your appearance is a complete secret which, naturally, means the entire school knows."

"Please tell me you're joking," Buffy said with a groan.

"Unfortunately, no," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling. "There are a few things in this world that I would never joke about, and the lack of secrets in this school is one of them. I'm sorry, Miss Summers, but I'm sure you can understand how easy it is for news to spread in a building full of teenagers."

"I suppose so," Buffy said with a sigh. "Come on, let's get this over with."

"Excellent," Dumbledore said with a smile, turning and leading the way into the large double doors that opened into the Great Hall.

"I don't see what's so excellent about it," Buffy muttered under her breath as she followed Dumbledore into the Great Hall.

Four tables ran along the length of the room, with another, slightly shorter table, ran perpendicular across the head of the room. Each of the four long tables was occupied with students, and each table had one of four color themes. _Probably represents each house,_ Buffy thought to herself. The room, which Buffy would have expected to be bursting with a cacophony of conversation, was eerily silent.

Each and every eye was trained on Buffy as she was led towards the staff table.

"They're staring at me," Buffy hissed at Dumbledore as she took a seat next to him.

"It's not every day we have guests in the castle," Dumbledore whispered back. "The longer you stay, the less curious they will be."

Just then, Professor Dippet rose from his seat at the middle of the table and cleared his throat to get the attention of the students. Every pair of eyes was set on him save for one.

Tom Riddle stared at Buffy, a small, amused smirk on his face. She scowled and averted her eyes, turning her attention to Dippet. However, she could still feel his eyes on her, and it made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

He was one strange boy and he was really beginning to wig her out.

"Students and faculty, I'm sure you have noticed by now a new addition to the school," Dippet began. "Miss Buffy Summers is visiting us for a few days on her travels; you may see her sitting in on some classes and walking the corridors. Please be sure to make her feel welcome and to demonstrate the warm Hogwarts hospitality we are known for."

As soon as Dippet finished his speech and sat back down, the buzz of conversation started up. Buffy was pretty sure they weren't talking about their classes of the day.

_So totally makes me feel like the freaky new girl again,_ Buffy thought as she grabbed a piece of chicken and spooned some vegetables onto her plate. She surveyed the room as she ate; Minerva caught her eye, smiling and offering a slight wave when she did. Buffy returned the favour, a little relieved that there was a friendly face in the crowd instead of the sea of faces trying not to make it obvious they were gawking at her.

The only other person who wasn't gawking at her was Tom Riddle. Buffy tried to avoid his gaze as she panned the room, but her hazel eyes kept on locking onto his dark ones briefly before she shook herself and continued with her meal.

"Normally I wouldn't do something like this to a student twice in one day, but we need to discuss your next plan of action," Dumbledore said, keeping his voice low. Buffy glanced over at Dippet; he was looking at the two of them strangely, but Buffy doubted he could hear them. Was that why he was keeping his voice low, so that Dippet couldn't hear them? Buffy could only guess.

While the only thing Buffy wanted to do after dinner was go back to her room, she knew that she had to talk to Dumbledore, and soon. After Dippet's announcement, it was imperative that they go over some kind of back story to stick to so that she had something to go on besides, "I'm a vampire slayer that fell from the sky and I'm also from the future". Buffy nearly laughed at how absurd that sounded, but caught herself just in time. It wouldn't do for people to think she was crazy before they even met her; that was something that usually happened afterwards.

"Might as well get this over with," Buffy muttered under her breath. Dumbledore smiled at her, his eyes twinkling once again. Buffy resisted the urge to roll her eyes; she had the feeling that Dumbledore rarely had someone say "no" to him. She wondered idly what would happen if someone _did _have the gall to refuse the old man, and decided that it wouldn't be a pretty picture. Buffy got the feeling that Dumbledore could forcibly make someone see his way, but from what she had seen it was more likely that he would quietly manipulate someone until they saw and agreed to his way of thinking.

"Have you finished eating, Miss Summers?" Dumbledore asked after a long stretch of silence. Buffy looked down at her plate; it was empty. She vaguely remembered eating, but had been so wrapped up in her thoughts that she hadn't quite realized how much she had eaten. "I don't know about you, but I would like to get this discussion started as soon as possible."

"Dippet's not going to be there, is he?" Buffy asked.

"Depending on how this goes, we may need to bring him in on our discussions, but for now let's keep it between you and me," Dumbledore suggested. Buffy nodded in agreement; she got a strange feeling about Dippet, as if he didn't like her.

Normally Buffy would be worried about having such a private conversation in such a public place, but it appeared as if dinner had ended some time ago and that pretty much everyone had cleared out of the Great Hall. There was nearly no one to listen in on their conversation; there were a few stragglers, but they seemed to be so wrapped up in their nuclear groups that they paid Buffy and Dumbledore no mind.

"Let's go up to my office, we can have a more private conversation there," Dumbledore suggested. Buffy nodded; she instinctively knew that, even though he'd worded it as a suggestion, she didn't have much of a choice. She supposed that she could have countered with a suggestion that they use her rooms, but she also got the feeling that it was rather inappropriate for a professor to visit a young woman in her private room. In her own time most people would think nothing of it, but it might generate some frowns here. The last thing Buffy wanted were more rampant rumours spread around the school about her.

Dumbledore rose from his seat and Buffy followed suit. She quietly followed him all the way up to the seventh floor, putting all of her concentration into keeping up with his long and quick stride. For someone who seemed rather advanced in age, he moved quite quickly. In no time they had reached his office, having met no one in the corridors; the stairways had, somehow, cooperated with them as well.

"Now, to our plan of action," Dumbledore said as soon as they were seated.

"Right down to business, I see," Buffy replied. No muss, no fuss; just how she liked it.

"Obviously this will be your decision, but I would like to suggest something," Dumbledore began. Buffy braced herself, fearing the worst. "I believe that, with the display from this afternoon, we could offer you a place at Hogwarts."

"I thought you might say that," Buffy said. "Do you think that's a good idea? Won't I be, like, completely behind everyone? And what if someone asks why I'm only starting to learn about magic now?"

"I think that it is imperative that you learn how to control your magic," Dumbledore replied. "Untrained witches and wizards have been known to wreak absolute havoc if their powers are not controlled. Now that you are aware of yours, I see every reason for you to learn how to channel your magic. As for your cover story, that's something we can think about later. I will, of course, arrange for tutors; there are several Ravenclaws and a couple of Gryffindors who would be more than up to the challenge."

"And if I say no?" Buffy asked. She was beginning to think that saying "no" would be a very bad idea, and she would probably agree to this anyway, but she might as well know her other options before making a decision.

"You will, of course, be welcome to stay here as my guest until such a time it is feasible for you to be on your way," Dumbledore replied. _In other words, they'd kick me out eventually,_ Buffy thought with a mental sigh. It was to be expected; after all, she wasn't a student nor a teacher and she doubted Hogwarts rarely took in stray people for the hell of it. "Besides, with you as a student here, you would be able to stay in the castle and you would have access to all of the materials we have on time travel so that we can get you back to your time."

"Your proposal is very hard for me to refuse," Buffy said. It was, in all honesty, a very difficult offer for her to refuse. "Am I going to have to put on that hat?"

"What hat?" Dumbledore asked, before it clicked with him. "Oh, you mean the Sorting Hat? Yes, it's something that all students must endure, I'm afraid. Can't have a student without a house; it would make them homeless."

Buffy understood the reasoning, but it didn't mean she had to like it. She wasn't looking forward to a mind reading, anthropomorphic hat being placed on her head to poke around in her mind to see what made her tick.

"What is it about the Sorting Hat that makes you so uneasy?" Dumbledore asked.

"I just don't like the idea of being pigeonholed because of one dominant personality trait," Buffy replied with a shrug. "I don't think it's fair."

"I hadn't thought of it that way," Dumbledore said thoughtfully. "However, policies are slow to change, especially ones that have been around for nearly a millennia. The Sorting process, as archaic as you might think it is, is an important Hogwarts tradition and must be followed by every student. It helps students have a sense of belonging right off the bat, instead of having to find your niche all on your own."

"Well, if you put it that way, I suppose the whole house system can have a positive spin on it," Buffy replied.

"Will I be able to announce you as the newest Hogwarts student tomorrow at breakfast?" Dumbledore asked.

Buffy thought for a moment. It really was the best option she had right now; she was alone in this time; all of her friends hadn't even been born yet. She wasn't even sure if her own grandparents had been born; even if they were, they were in the States and there she didn't think they'd take to kindly to her showing up on their doorstep, stating that she was their granddaughter.

"Doesn't look like I have much of a choice, does it?" Buffy replied. Dumbledore smiled at her, his eyes twinkling yet again.

"This is most likely a formality, but I need to present your case to Professor Dippet," Dumbledore said. "He is the Headmaster and has to approve all new transfers."

Dumbledore got up from his desk and headed to the fireplace. He took out his wand and muttered some words that Buffy couldn't quite distinguish. Flames burst from the tip of his wand, instantly igniting the pile of logs sitting there. She watched as he grabbed a silver canister from the mantle and put his hand into it, extracting some grey powder, which he threw onto the flames.

Buffy's eyes widened as the fire turned green and Dumbledore kneeled at the hearth and stuck his head into the flames. She was about to get up and pull him out of the fire – what kind of idiot would do such a thing? – when Dumbledore brought his head back out of the flames.

"I should have warned you about this, I'm quite sorry to have alarmed you," he said quickly. "This is kind of like a Muggle telephone system, and it's perfectly harmless."

"O-okay," Buffy stammered, still in slight shock as Dumbledore stuck his head back into the fireplace. Even if she were trying to eavesdrop, she couldn't hear what he was saying. After a few moments, Dumbledore removed his head from the fire. From the grim look on his face, it didn't look good.

"Dippet would like to speak to me alone," Dumbledore said grimly. "Would you mind waiting out in the corridor?"

"No, of course not," Buffy replied. It was obvious to both of them that she did, in fact, mind, but there was little Buffy could do to argue without hurting her chances to stay. Dumbledore looked at her apologetically as she got to her feet and trooped out the door. She just hoped that no one would stumble upon her while she was waiting in the corridor like a naughty child; she didn't quite feel up to speaking to anyone, or stumbling over a to-be-determined cover story.

She leaned against the wall, although the urge to press her ear against the door was too great. It wasn't long before she did just that, in an attempt to catch bits of the conversation going on behind the thick wooden door. She could make out the mumbled drone of conversation, but nothing distinct.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?"

Buffy groaned as the smooth voice floated over to her. Removing her ear from the door, she turned to find her current least favourite person standing about five feet from her, an amused smirk crossing his handsome features. Riddle's appearance made sent a shiver up her spine, and not the good kind of shiver.

"What do you want?" Buffy asked, resisting the urge to scowl at him. If she didn't know any better, she would have said he was following her around.

"What, a bloke can't walk around his own school?" Riddle asked, arching an eyebrow. "And I could be asking you the same thing. Are you lost or something?"

"Hardly," Buffy replied with a snort.

"Well then, what are you doing out here all by yourself?" Riddle asked.

"I don't think that's any of your damn business," Buffy retorted. "Don't you have anything better to do than bother me?"

"Ooh, touchy, touchy," Riddle shot back. He held up his hands in surrender, although his eyes conveyed the message that he was far from surrendering.

Buffy was about to open her mouth to retort when the door swung open again. Dumbledore stood in the doorway, his expression grave.

"You may come back in, Miss Summers," he said quietly, moving so that she could enter before him and gesturing her to enter. He turned to Riddle as Buffy made her way past him. "Mr. Riddle, I believe you should run along now."

Riddle scowled, but slunk off in the direction Buffy presumed he had come from; having not seen his approach, she couldn't be sure of what direction he had come from.

Dumbledore shut the door behind her and gestured for her to take a seat in the second chair in front of his desk, Dippet having taken the other chair. She looked from Dippet to Dumbledore a few times, trying to read their expressions. It was difficult, considering both faces held neutral expressions.

"So, what's the verdict?" Buffy asked, getting straight to the point. There was no point in prolonging the torture, after all.

"After what Dumbledore has told me of what happened this afternoon, I am inclined to agree that Hogwarts is the best place for you," Dippet said. "I am prepared to offer you a place as a sixth-year student; your house, of course, is as yet to be determined."

_Wonder how hard it was for him to say that?_ Buffy thought. She nodded in acceptance, sagging slightly in relief.

"We need to get you fitted for a wand as soon as possible," Dumbledore continued. "After all, the sooner we get you outfitted with everything you need, the sooner we can get your tutoring underway. As I understand it, you have a lot of work to do to catch up."

"What am I going to do about money?" Buffy asked. After all, she didn't have a penny to her name, and therefore couldn't afford to buy school supplies or anything like that.

"We have a trust fund for situations like yours," Dumbledore replied with a kind smile.

"You mean, you get random people from the future falling from the sky often?" Buffy joked. Dumbledore smiled, but Dippet just set a stern look on her.

"We have a trust fund set up for students who have no parents and don't have an inheritance," Dippet clarified. Buffy felt cowed, and was quiet after that.

"But first, we must get one important factor out of the way," Dumbledore continued. He reached down and grabbed something that had previously been concealed by his desk. He placed the object onto the desktop and Buffy instantly knew what it was.

The infamous Sorting Hat.

"Let's get this onto your head, shall we?" Dumbledore said, grabbing the hat and getting up. He stood beside Buffy and placed the hat gingerly onto her head. Even though she was older than the majority of the students who tried on the hat, it was still far too large for her and it fell over her eyes.

_Well, well, well, aren't you a little old to be sorted?_ a voice whispered in her ear. Buffy jumped and looked around wildly. _Don't worry, you're the only one who can hear me. Now, what do we have here? A Slayer, eh? Haven't had one of those around these parts in several centuries. Should be interesting to have you around. Been dead once already have you? Determined little thing, to have come back from the dead. Yes, yes, I think I know where you'll go. You'll make life interesting for…_

***

**Umm… I'm sorry? I didn't mean to take this long to update; life just got really hectic and by the time I got home in the evenings after work my brain was completely fried. You all rule, each and every one of you, for sticking with me on this.**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

_Wait!_ Buffy thought frantically.

_What is it?_ the Sorting Hat replied impatiently. _I really hope you're not going to tell me how to do my job because that's really not how it works._

_No, no, nothing like that,_ Buffy replied. _I was just wondering if you were going to put me in Slytherin._

_Do you __want__ to be in Slytherin? _the Hat asked. It sounded annoyed. Buffy wondered if a hat could be annoyed. She supposed that, because it was infused with someone's personality, it could have emotions. It made her head hurt thinking about it, though.

_Only if you think that's the best place for me,_ Buffy replied.

_You're in luck, then, because it just so happens that I don't think Slytherin is the best place for you,_ the Hat replied. _While you have some Slytherin qualities, they'd probably eat you alive. No, no, my dear, I think you're far better suited for GRYFFINDOR!_

The Sorting Hat must have said the last word out loud, because a moment later the Hat was plucked from her head and stowed once again behind Dumbledore's desk. She chanced a glance at the two old men sitting in front of her. Dumbledore had a rather pleased expression on his face, although his smile was partially obscured by his beard and all Buffy could see were the crinkles on the outside corners of his eyes and the amused twinkle in their blue depths. Dippet looked somewhat surprised, his mouth hanging slightly open as he blinked a few times.

"Well, I think that went quite well, don't you?" Dumbledore asked.

"Yes, yes it did," Dippet replied, shaking himself out of his stupor; it took Buffy all she had not to giggle at him. "I believe I'll leave the rest for you, Albus."

Dippet rose from his seat and, before heading to the fireplace, retrieved the Sorting Hat from behind Dumbledore's desk. In a flash of green fire, he was gone.

"So, was that what you expected?" Dumbledore asked when the flames were back to orange, red and yellow.

"To be honest, I expected the Hat to tell me I didn't belong her and that I should go before it ratted me out or something," Buffy replied with a shrug. "So, what's my cover story?"

"You are, as discussed, a sixth year Gryffindor student," Dumbledore began. He stroked his beard for a moment, looking thoughtful, before continuing. "I think, for simplicity's sake, that you should stick to as much of your own history as possible. While we can't really say anything about you being the Slayer, there are other things we can use. The reason you should give for you late entrance to school is that you were born on a mystical convergence and you didn't show up in our records until you took a family vacation to Scotland a short while ago. This convergence is also the reason why you can't contact your parents easily, and also why you are not able to go home for the holidays. As to why you're here instead of the Colonies, just say Hogwarts got to you first. I trust you won't have any problems remembering this?"

"Just call me Secret Identity Girl," Buffy chirped, glad that there wouldn't be a long, complex back story with fake parents and siblings to remember. She could be as vague as she wanted and not very many people would question it.

At least, that's what she hoped.

"As for you wand, I will be in contact with Mr. Ollivander this evening to see what the best course of action is," Dumbledore continued. "I think that, given the fact that most of his business is in August when the new first years come in to get their first wands, Mr. Ollivander will have no objections to coming up here for a couple of hours. He always did love the castle; I think he misses it sometimes."

"Sounds good to me," Buffy agreed. Despite her trepidation over learning magic, she was beginning to feel a little excited. It could be another weapon for her to use in her arsenal against the forces of darkness, after all.

"I trust that you will be able to find your way back to your room from here?" Dumbledore asked. "Normally after a student is Sorted they join their housemates, but I thought you'd appreciate the privacy for one more night. I also thought you might want your supplies before making a full integration into the school."

"Thank you," Buffy said gratefully.

"I will be in contact with you tomorrow to let you know what is going on with everything," Dumbledore said as he rose from his seat. Buffy followed suit and Dumbledore opened the office door for her. "Have a pleasant evening, Miss Summers."

"I'll do my best, Professor Dumbledore," Buffy replied with a small smile as she exited the office.

She was still smiling as she made her way back to her rooms; she was beginning to get a feel for the castle, and while she wasn't an expert at the layout yet she was confident that she would be able to make her way back to her room without getting lost.

At least, that's what she thought.

"Lost?" asked a voice from behind her. Buffy jumped and whirled around, not entirely surprised not to see Tom Riddle standing behind her. He was casually leaning against the wall, an amused smirk on his face.

"No, not at all," Buffy replied, feeling slightly uneasy. She'd never been completely alone in Tom Riddle's presence; she'd always had a buffer or something between her and him.

"Really? Because you're looking kind of lost," Tom remarked. He pushed himself off of the wall and sauntered over to where Buffy was standing. "Do you need a hand getting back to your room? I don't mind giving you a hand, it's on my rounds anyway."

"No, I think I'm okay," Buffy said, turning and leaving. As she walked away, Tom grabbed onto her arm, stopping her. She turned again, eyes narrowed. "Let me go, Riddle."

"It's not safe to be wandering the corridors alone at night," Tom said quietly, his eyes boring into hers. "There are… things… in this castle that are far too dangerous for a school to have, and yet they are here. Be careful."

"What kinds of things?" Buffy asked, slightly intrigued. She wasn't particularly scared; after all, she was still the Slayer, even though being at Hogwarts could be her chance to have a semi-normal, destiny-free life. Still, it was good to know about what lurked in the dark here, just in case she had to slay it.

"Did you hear about the girl who got killed in the second floor bathroom?" Tom asked. "The one that's haunted now?"

"Yes, Minerva told me about it," Buffy replied with a nod.

"Did McGonagall tell you what killed her?" Tom asked, arching an eyebrow. He still had not removed his hand.

"No," Buffy replied.

"It was a creature, brought into the castle by a student," Tom said. "A student that got expelled, but is still working for the school because a teacher or two felt bad for him."

Buffy's eyes widened; while she hadn't met a lot of people in the school, there couldn't have been very many that had gotten expelled but were kept on as maintenance staff because they had been pitied.

"Yes, it's your buddy Hagrid who let it in, and it killed a student," Tom said quietly. "You really need to be more careful as to who you hang around with."

"I think the only person I need to be careful around is you," Buffy said coolly. She glanced down at the hand that still gripped her arm. She grabbed the hand, squeezing it as hard as she could, infusing some of her Slayer strength into her grip. "I thought I told you to let me go?"

Tom released her arm, drawing his hand back as if he were burned. Buffy turned on her heel and stalked off without a backwards glance, the route clear in her mind.

"You are a very interesting young woman, Miss Summers," Tom said quietly, holding onto his aching hand. "A very interesting young woman indeed."

***

The next morning, Buffy stood in front of the mirror, nervously examining her reflection. She was dressed in the hideous uniform again, but the black, unaffiliated tie was replaced by a striped burgundy and gold one. Her grey knee socks were pulled up fully, straight and proper, and on her feet were the sensible Mary Jane shoes.

"Well, it's no naughty Catholic schoolgirl costume, but I guess it'll do," Buffy said with a sigh. She knew that she didn't have much of a choice, but it didn't mean she liked it that much.

"I still think you look like an angel," said the mirror, making a noise that sounded like a sigh.

"Oh shut up," Buffy grumbled, wishing that the mirrors in this dimension didn't talk. The mirror huffed, but didn't say anything else as Buffy turned away from her reflection.

She wasn't sure what the day would bring her; Dumbledore hadn't spoken to her the previous night after she had returned to her room, so she wasn't sure how they would select her wand or gather her books or anything like that. The uncertainty was making her feel uneasy; maybe this was all some weird, messed up dream, and she would wake up in some God-awful rat infested apartment in Los Angeles with a crappy job and no friends.

With that unpleasant thought planted in her mind, her fire glowed green as Dumbledore's face appeared with a pop. Buffy gasped and jumped, surprised.

"I'm sorry for startling you, my dear," he said with a smile. "I was wondering if you would like to pick out your wand now? Mr. Ollivander has been kind enough to come to the castle for a house call."

"Sounds like a plan," Buffy replied with a smile. "Give me a when and where and I'll be there."

"We can come down right now," Dumbledore said. "Mr. Ollivander arrived a short while ago and he would like to get this done as soon as possible. Seeing how long it can take for a wand to choose someone, I see no reason to delay."

"Fair enough," Buffy said, wondering what the process was to select a wand. Or, as Dumbledore had worded it, a wand to select her.

She wouldn't have to wait long because at that moment Dumbledore stepped out of her fireplace, dusting soot off of his robes.

"I'm really going to have to get used to that," Buffy said, surprised. She had seen Dippet appear from the fireplace in Dumbledore's office the night before, but it was still a surprising feat to see. Following Dumbledore was a considerably shorter man with slightly balding, white frizzy hair and curious, almost creepy sliver eyes. He was carrying what looked like an old doctor's bag.

"Miss Summers, I would like you to meet Mr. Ollivander, the finest wandmaker in Great Britain," Dumbledore said. "His family has been making wands for witches and wizards in this country since 382 B.C."

"Pleasure to meet you, Miss Summers," Mr. Ollivander said with a warm smile. "Let's see if we can find a match for you, hmm?"

"Alright, so what do I need to do?" Buffy asked.

"First, we need to take your measurements," Ollivander said as he reached into his bag and pulled out a tape measure. "Which is your wand arm?"

"I'm right-handed," Buffy replied. Ollivander gently held her by the wrist and moved her arm so that it was sticking out straight in front of her and parallel to the floor. He placed one end of the tape measure on her shoulder and unravelled it until it reached the tip of her middle finger.

"Each of my wands are made of either phoenix feather, unicorn tail hair or dragon heartstrings," Ollivander said, turning away from her to rummage around in his bag. The tape measure was still measuring Buffy all on its own, taking seemingly arbitrary measurements. "Each of the wand cores are given to me willingly and paired with wood of different varieties and lengths. There are no two wands that are exactly alike, and each wand is destined to be with a certain witch or wizard. As I like to say, the wand chooses the wizard. And I think that's enough for now."

Just then the tape measure fell to the ground, lifeless, having just before been measuring the distance between Buffy's knees. She knew it had to have been magic controlling the tape measure; she didn't sense and invisible person flitting around her, so that was the only explanation she was comfortable with.

"Now, give this one a try," Ollivander said, handing her a wand. "Applewood, dragon heartstring, nine and a quarter inches."

Buffy gave the wand a wave, and nothing happened. Ollivander snatched the wand out of her hand, replaced it in its box and reached into his bag for another.

"Not the applewood one, eh? Here, try this one," he said, handing her one made of a rich, dark wood. "Mahogany, ten inches, phoenix feather."

Buffy waved that one, and again, nothing happened. She did this numerous times; before too long, there were about a hundred boxes stacked on the couch, and there seemed to be an endless supply coming from the bag. Ollivander seemed to be getting more and more excited as the stack of wands got higher and higher.

"How did you fit all of these wands into the bag?" Buffy asked as she waved a yew wand, eight and a half inches and made with a unicorn hair.

"Magic, it's always magic," Ollivander said mysteriously. "I should have known you were an exceptional case when Dumbledore told me your story. Let me see if I don't have something a little more unique in stock, shall we?"

He dug around in the bag, reaching so far down into it that his entire arm disappeared into the bag. Buffy found this odd, as the bag was no more than a foot or so high and it was placed on a spindly table that rested a good three feet off the floor. Ollivander withdrew his arm from the bag, gingerly holding yet another long, narrow box. Buffy felt differently about this one; she felt almost drawn to it.

"While all of my wands are unique, I believe this one is far more special than the others," Ollivander began. He opened the box, and resting inside was a nine-inch wand made of a dark, rich color of wood. "I made this as part of an experiment, not really expecting anyone to actually be able to use it. It's nine inches, made of rosewood. If it picks you, I'll tell you what's in it."

Buffy gingerly took the wand; as soon as she did, she could feel it hum in her hand and grow warm. A stream of sparkles emitted from the tip, bathing the room in a slight red glow before dying down.

"Well, I'll be damned," Ollivander said in awe. "As I said, I never thought this one would actually pick anyone to be its wielder. Take care of this wand, Miss Summers; I would like to know how it works out for you."

"And what might be the core of this wand, Mr. Ollivander?" Dumbledore asked, his tone curious. Buffy was curious as well, but was too shocked that a wand had actually picked her to ask the question herself.

"Precisely three drops of vampire's blood," Ollivander replied. "Remarkable, isn't it?"

"What was this vampire's name?" Buffy asked. Now she was really curious, and she wouldn't let Ollivander leave until she knew.

"The last time I saw him, which was twenty years ago mind, he was going by the name of Angel," Ollivander replied.

***

**Sorry, it's clichéd, but I couldn't resist. Reviews are wonderful; they keep me inspired. Until next time!**


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Buffy stared at the wand blankly, resisting the urge to throw it across the room. Even when she was in a different time and place, she still couldn't escape him. Even though she knew better, it felt like he was taunting her, teasing her from beyond the hell dimension, daring her to forget. She had only just begun to feel almost human, almost normal, and now this was thrown at her.

"How much for the wand, Mr. Ollivander?" Dumbledore asked. Ollivander had been staring at Buffy curiously, and Dumbledore felt the need to draw his attention away.

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of charging you for that," Ollivander replied, waving his hand dismissively before packing up the large stack of wand boxes on the couch. "It was a mere experiment, not meant to see my sale shelves. I'd be happy to gift her with it, as long as she keeps me updated as to how the wand performs."

"I'm sure she'll have no problems with that," Dumbledore said with a smile. He gestured towards the fireplace. "Thank you for everything, Mr. Ollivander. I expect your bill for this house call shortly."

"Oh pish posh, old friend," Ollivander replied, waving his hand dismissively again. "I don't bill my friends because they've invited me for a visit. This little side trip is something I'm more than happy to do, Albus. I should probably be on my way, though; I have a feeling someone might be in with a broken wand today, and I don't want them standing outside my dark shop for too long."

"I'll see you before long, old friend," Dumbledore said with a smile as he gestured towards the fireplace again. Ollivander took a sack of something out of his pocket tossed a handful of powder into the fire and whooshed off in a flash of green flame.

Buffy still stared at her wand, turning it over in her hand and examining every inch of it. It was pretty, and somewhat thicker than the other wands she had handled previously. Could possibly be used as a stake, she thought with a small smile. But then she thought about the core and her smile dropped.

"That wand was meant for you, Miss Summers," Dumbledore said quietly, causing her to jump. She looked up at him curiously, wondering at the back of her head how he had gotten near her without her noticing.

"What makes you think that?" Buffy asked.

"Look at it, think about its composition," Dumbledore replied. "It's durable, which means that in a pinch it could probably be used as a weapon you're more accustomed with. As for the composition, I think it's rather fitting. A Slayer with a vampire blood wand? It's destiny at its finest."

"If you say so," Buffy muttered under her breath. She wondered what Angel would say if he knew she had a wand and would be doing magic with his blood, but quickly quashed that thought as tears sprung to her eyes. She wouldn't be seeing him, ever again, and it was all her fault. At least she had something of his, indirectly; her wand was something she would cherish.

"Something else came for you by emergency owl post early this morning," Dumbledore added. He took a small package from his pocket and tapped it with his wand. He set the enlarged package, now the size of a large box, onto the floor. "I think it might be your school supplies, but I was hoping you would do the honors."

Buffy opened the box and peeked inside; there were books, parchment, quills, more bottles of ink that she could ever need – maybe they were in multiple colors or something – and a book bag to hold all of it. There were also robes with the Gryffindor crest, two more sets of clothes for the uniforms and another pair of shoes.

"Wow, when you said you were going to get my supplies, you went all out," Buffy remarked, sifting through the supplies. She looked up and Dumbledore and smiled. "You didn't have to get me all of this. Thank you."

"It's nothing more than what the other students get when they purchase supplies for the year," Dumbledore replied. "Except for the ink. I think everyone should have a variety to choose from when it comes to ink. Black is so boring, wouldn't you agree?"

"Yeah, sure," Buffy said, a little unsure.

"Here is your schedule," Dumbledore said, handing Buffy a piece of parchment. "I have taken the liberty of picking your classes, but if you don't enjoy them you are free to change them. Unfortunately Miss McGonagall will not be in any of your classes, seeing as she is a seventh year, but I'm sure you'll have no problems."

Buffy chewed her lip nervously; while logical that she wouldn't have any classes with the one person in her house she actually knew, she wasn't sure that she was okay with the idea. As well, there was the prospect of Tom Riddle being in her classes as well because he, like her, was a sixth year.

"Professor Dumbledore, do the houses take classes together?" Buffy asked.

"Yes, they do," Dumbledore replied. "I believe you have Transfiguration with the Ravenclaws, Herbology with the Hufflepuffs and Potions with the Slytherins. I think, as well, the optional classes are integrated."

"I see," Buffy said quietly.

"Are you ready to go to breakfast?" Dumbledore asked. He was growing worried; while Buffy had progressed in the last few days, eating meals with the rest of the school and heading back to her room alone, he wondered if he might be pushing her too far too fast.

"As ready as I'll ever be," Buffy replied with a sigh. She checked her schedule; she had Transfiguration, Potions, Divination and Care of Magical Creatures that day. "Um, Professor Dumbledore… what books do I need for today?"

Dumbledore rummaged through the box and came up with four books, the book bag, some parchment, a couple of quills and two bottles of ink. Buffy had a feeling the ink wasn't going to be black.

"Here are the books you need for today," Dumbledore said, placing the books into the bag for her before packing up the rest of the supplies. He handed her the bag. "I'm sure you'll find them self explanatory. I will be speaking with Miss McGonagall about your tutoring; if she can't help you out, she will be able to suggest someone who can."

"Sounds fair," Buffy said uncertainly. She was unsure if she was able to do this; while she had been excited the night before about the prospect of being a student, it was really beginning to hit her.

"Are you going to be all right, Miss Summers?" Dumbledore asked. "If you really feel the need to, we can postpone the beginning of your classes until you feel you're ready to face the other students."

"I really hate to say this, but if we did that I'd be locked in here for a while," Buffy replied with a sheepish smile. Slinging her bag onto her shoulder, she straightened her back. She was the Slayer; she'd gone up against master vampires, demons and other things that went bump in the night. She'd been kicked out of her house, killed her boyfriend and done other horrible, unimaginable things. She'd died, for Pete's sake.

She could do this.

"Let's do this thing," Buffy said confidently. She strode past Dumbledore to the door, only pausing long enough to make sure he was coming with her.

Buffy walked the corridors with her head held high. It was easy; no one was around because everyone had already made it to breakfast. She walked confidently alongside Dumbledore until they reached the Great Hall where, again, every single pair of eyes watched her enter.

The closer she got to the Gryffindor table, the more uncomfortable she felt. By the time they actually reached the table, Buffy felt like running back to her room and locking the door, not allowing anyone in. However, that wasn't an option, so Buffy took a deep, calming breath before pasting a happy smile on her face.

"Miss Summers, I'd like you to meet your housemates," Dumbledore said, gesturing at the table full of people. "I'm sure you all remember Miss Summers from last night. She has recently been sorted into Gryffindor, and I hope you'll make her feel welcome."

He turned and headed to the staff table, leaving Buffy standing at the table awkwardly. The group of students were staring at her, making her feel uncomfortable.

"Buffy, come and sit with me!" Minerva said, waving her over. Buffy smiled slightly as she walked over and sat next to the taller girl. "So, why didn't you tell me you were going to be a student?"

Buffy looked up at Minerva; while her tone was light, there was something in her eyes. Could she actually be hurt that Buffy didn't reveal everything at their first meeting? It was ludicrous to even think it, but there Minerva was, looking at her with those eyes that made Buffy want to admit everything.

"Leave her alone, Minnie, you just met her," said a boy from across the table from them. "Why don't you introduce her to everyone?"

"She was introduced last night," Minerva replied. "Or were you in detention again?"

"Come on Minnie, don't be like that," the boy pleaded before turning to Buffy. "The name's Terrence Longbottom. Now tell me, is Buffy your real name or is it some cruel joke Dippet's playing on us?"

"It's my real first name," Buffy replied with a sigh. She hoped that Terrence was the only person who would make fun of her name. "My parents were really into making me completely unique and gave me a first name that no one else would have."

"I feel so, so sorry for you," Terrence said, shaking his head. "Anyway, where were we? Oh yeah, introductions! Over there is Augusta Smith, she's a seventh year too. And just down the table is my little brother Algie, he's a fifth year. There's Quentin Trimble, he's a sixth year and a bit of a wimp, if you ask me."

"So, what year are you in?" Augusta asked with a kind smile, interrupting Terrence. He huffed and sulked, but Buffy was glad for the distraction; she wouldn't be able to remember all of those names anyway. "And don't you dare call me Augusta; it's just August, most of the time."

"I'm signed up as a sixth year, but I'm going to need a lot of help," Buffy replied. "I don't know a whole lot of magic."

"Why's that?" Terrence asked. "American schools not up to snuff?"

"Try 'never gone to a magic school' and you might get a little closer," Buffy replied sheepishly.

"Not surprised, you know," Terrence said with a sniff. "Americans have no idea how to identify true magical talent. Say, why are you here instead of there? Not that I'm complaining, mind – we need more pretty decorations around here."

"Oh leave her alone," August said, smacking Terrence on the shoulder. "Great way to make friends there, Terry. I don't know why I hang around you most of the time, you're so insensitive!"

"Men aren't supposed to be sensitive, that's a girl thing," Terrence said with a sniff. "And you hit like a girl, Augusta."

August huffed and crossed her arms. Buffy smiled a little; she had a feeling she would be greatly amused, if anything else, while residing in Gryffindor.

"Well, could you tell me a little bit about the people I might have in my classes?" Buffy asked, spooning some eggs and bacon onto her plate. She didn't see very many healthy choices in front of her, which meant she would have to watch what she ate if she were to keep her figure. Slayer metabolism only went so far, after all.

"The only ones you really have to worry about are the Slytherins," Terrence replied. He glared at something across the room, and Buffy followed his gaze. Not surprisingly, her eyes fell on Tom Riddle, and he was surrounded by a group of rather dark and sinister looking boys who looked about his age. Tom smiled at her and wiggled his fingers in a wave before turning his attention to his breakfast.

"Looks like you've already met Riddle," Terrence said.

"Don't remind me," Buffy said with a roll of her eyes. "Knowing my luck, I'll probably have to sit next to him in any classes I've got with the Slytherins."

"What do you have?" Minerva asked. "We should probably set up a study schedule to get you up to scratch as soon as possible. Thankfully, you don't have any major exams this year, but that doesn't mean you can slack off."

"Here, I'll give you my schedule," Buffy replied. She dug around in her bag and pulled out the folded piece of parchment with her schedule printed on it. She handed it to Minerva, who perused it with her sharp eyes.

"Looks like you've got the basics – Charms, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Potions and Transfiguration," Minerva said as she scanned the piece of paper. "Professor Slughorn will probably be fine with giving you extra lab time and tutoring, but you better let me talk to him about it. I can tutor you on Transfiguration, as it's my best subject. Those two are usually the hardest to learn; the other ones are kind of based off of those two. We should probably see how much you need to learn before we start any major tutoring. I have a prefect's meeting after lessons today, but would you be all right with going over your lessons after dinner tonight?"

"So I'm assuming Professor Dumbledore talked to you about giving me a hand?" Buffy asked. "And yeah, that sounds great. It's not like I'll have anything else to do, anyway."

"Yes, he spoke to me last night, presumably after you got Sorted," Minerva replied, handing Buffy her schedule. "And excellent. I'll see you in the common room after dinner, then. The password for the tower is "fiddlesticks", and I'll meet you after your last class to show you the quickest way to the common room."

"Thanks Minerva," Buffy said gratefully, not quite sure if she was allowed to call her Minnie yet. She took a bite of toast and swallowed before continuing. "Thanks so much for helping me out; I really appreciate it."

"You won't be thanking her after she draws up your study schedule," Terrence interjected. Minerva scowled at him, reaching across the table to smack him on the arm. "Ow, that hurt!"

"Well, if you had a set of brakes between your brain and your mouth, we wouldn't have to beat on you so much," August retorted with a grin.

"It's really no problem at all," Minerva replied with a shrug. "I'm happy to help; even if Dumbledore hadn't asked me to tutor you, if I'd seen you struggling with your work I would have helped, no questions asked."

"Still, thanks," Buffy said with another smile. "I'm still kind of new to the magic thing, so any help I can get is awesome."

"I can help you with Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures," Terrence said with a smile. "And Trimble's good with Defence Against the Dark Arts, at least the theory bit and he can help you with that. And August is brilliant in Charms, so she can help you there."

"Thanks so much for volunteering my services," August said with a roll of her eyes. "Not that I mind or anything, I'd love to help, but I would have appreciated the opportunity to offer up my services on my own."

"Sorry August," Terrence said sheepishly.

Buffy smiled slightly to herself as she watched listened to the people around her. It seemed like the trio she was sitting with had been friends for years, and she felt almost rude for listening in on the affectionate bickering that was obviously a normal occurrence.

Breakfast passed relatively quietly after that and before long everyone was getting up to head to their first classes of the day.

"Come on, I'll introduce you to Quentin," Minerva said as she rose from his seat. "He's a good guy. Hey, Quint!"

A rather short, skinny boy looked up from his breakfast, his face breaking into a shy smile when he saw who was hailing him. He waved at Minerva as she made her way through the growing crowd clamoring to get out of the Great Hall.

"All right, Minnie?" he asked, a flush staining his cheeks. "Who's your friend?"

"Quentin, I'd like you to meet Buffy Summers," Minerva said with a smile. "Would you mind showing her around today? She needs a little help finding her classes."

"Sure, no problem," Quentin said with a smile. Minerva's smile widened into a grin as she waved good-bye to them before turning and rushing back to her friends. Quinton turned his attention to Buffy, his smile shy. "So what's your story? Hogwarts doesn't normally accept transfers, you know."

"I'd figured as much," Buffy replied as she followed Quentin out of the Great Hall. "You know the story… girl is born on a magical convergence and isn't discovered to have magic until she leaves said convergence to go on vacation. Hogwarts was notified of this first and extended the first invitation, which I accepted."

"That sounds fascinating. You have to tell me the full story sometime," Quentin remarked as he navigated them through the masses of students all trying to make their way to their classes. "So, you don't know any magic at all?"

"Only the stuff in fairy tales," Buffy replied. While far from true, she couldn't exactly let on that she did, in fact, know about magic, because that would lead to far too many questions.

"So you're Muggle-born?" Quentin asked. "And why did your parents decide to come here on vacation? Don't the know there's a war going on?"

"Neither of my parents are magical… at least, I don't think they are. It's never been mentioned before," Buffy replied. "And they weren't in Britain at all; we were visiting family out of town, and my name came up on the Hogwarts records. We don't know why, but I think Dippet and Dumbledore decided not to question it."

She made a mental note to let Dumbledore know that she had altered that small detail of her cover story; she'd forgotten that Europe was in the middle of The Second World War, which showed how much she paid attention in history class. She wondered if the war had seeped into the wizarding world as well; it was another question she made a note to ask Dumbledore about.

"Well, here we are, Sixth Year Potions," Quentin said as they entered the dungeon classroom where Potions was held. Buffy shivered; she didn't like the cold, dank feel and she missed the southern California warmth. She had a feeling that she wouldn't ever get used to the northern Scotland dampness.

"Miss Summers, I presume?" asked a voice from the front of the room. Buffy turned her attention away from Quentin to address the teacher.

"Yes, that's right," Buffy replied with a nod.

"Professor Horace Slughorn, a pleasure to meet you my dear," he said jovially. He was a rather round-shaped man with thinning brown hair streaked sparsely with grey. He had a small moustache and beard and he looked like a younger version of Santa Claus. "Mr. Trimble, please find your seat. Yes, that's a good boy, thank you."

"Right back at ya," Buffy replied with a smile, causing Slughorn to chuckle lightly.

"Now, all of us professors have been apprised of the situation, of course," Slughorn continued. "As such, I am going to partner you up with my top student in this class and hope some of his potion making talent rubs off on you."

Slughorn gestured to the back of the room, presumably where his top student sat. Her gaze landed on the one student without a desk partner and her face fell slightly when she saw who it was.

Tom Riddle was Professor Slughorn's best student.

"Thank you, Professor," Buffy said, trying hard not to groan. She didn't want to deal with him on her very first day in her very first class, but it seemed as if it were inevitable. She just hoped that she wouldn't have to take any more classes with him for the rest of the day.

"It's nice to see you again, Summers," Riddle said with a smirk as she plopped down into the seat next to Riddle.

"I wish I could say the feeling's mutual, Riddle," Buffy replied, trying not to scowl too hard as she searched her bag for her potions text, parchment, ink and a quill.

"Now that everyone is here, I would like to commence with the lesson," Slughorn began. "Because we have a new student today, I would like to take this opportunity to recap what we have learned so far. For some this will be a good refresher, for others a tutorial and for a few of you it might be a good idea to take a nap."

He chuckled at his own joke before launching into the lesson. Buffy listened carefully, trying her best to take notes, but was finding it difficult to do so when she could feel Riddle watching her.

"Interesting color of ink you have there," he remarked with a smirk. Buffy had been rather unlucky and had picked a bottle of fluorescent pink ink, and by the time she had realized it, the lesson had already started and trying to find another bottle of ink would have cost her some valuable lecture information.

"Not intentional," Buffy replied with a sigh, making a mental note to test out all of the bottles of ink Dumbledore had gotten for you, and only keeping the ones that were borderline normal.

"How are you finding your first day?" Riddle asked.

"Would be great if someone would shut up and let me get on with my work," Buffy replied testily.

"Yes, I suppose Slughorn does like to hear the sound of his own voice," Riddle said with a smirk.

"I was talking about you," Buffy replied with a glare.

"Ooh, touchy, touchy," Riddle said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "Although I have a feeling you and I will be spending a lot of time together in the coming weeks."

"Yeah, right," Buffy muttered under her breath.

The rest of the lesson passed uneventfully, with Buffy ending up with copious amount of notes from the lecture. She'd never written that much for a class, ever, because she always had Willow to give her a hand with stuff like that. Now, though, while she had a blossoming friendship with some of the seventh years in her house, she still felt the need to be more self-reliant, especially at first. As of yet, she didn't quite feel comfortable asking to mooch notes off of anyone.

"And I think that's where I'll leave it today," Slughorn said with five minutes to go until the end of the lesson. "Please read chapters eleven and twelve before next class in preparation of the potion we will be brewing next time. Summers, Riddle, a word please."

Quentin elbowed his way over to Buffy as she made her way to the front of the classroom, Riddle unfortunately by her side. All she wanted to do was get to her next class and survive the day, but that obviously wasn't going to happen easily.

"Hey Buffy, I'll wait for you in the hall and we can walk to Charms together," he said with a smile. Buffy nodded in agreement and smiled and turned back to Slughorn as Quentin exited with the rest of the students.

"Miss Summers, I think you might benefit from some tutoring in this class, seeing as you're quite far behind in your studies," Slughorn said. "I have asked Mr. Riddle if he would tutor you, and he has gladly accepted. I trust there will be no objections?"

Buffy remained silent, trusting herself not to speak. Just her luck, she got paired with the one person she wanted to avoid dealing with. She just hoped she picked up on potions quickly enough so that their tutoring sessions wouldn't be too numerous.

"Excellent!" said Slughorn, clapping his hands once exuberantly. "I trust you two can coordinate your own study schedules?"

"Shouldn't be a problem," Riddle said with a grin. Buffy nodded once before turning on her heel and heading out of the classroom.

"What's wrong?" Quentin asked when he caught sight of her face. She must have been wearing her emotions there.

"Riddle's my potions tutor," Buffy replied with a groan.

"Ouch," Quentin said with a sympathetic wince. "Good luck with that. Come on, let's get you to your next class before you get a tardy slip."

"Thanks, I'm probably going to need it," Buffy replied as they hurried to their next class.

Could her day get any worse?

***

**Author's Note:** Just letting you know, I'm getting a lot of the names I use in this chapter from the Harry Potter Lexicon.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Unfortunately, Buffy's day didn't get much better.

Quentin and Buffy made their way through the crowded hallways, ducking and weaving between the taller students. Being about the size of your average third or fourth year instead of the sixth years they actually were, it took a lot of effort to keep from getting jostled.

They got to class just as the bell rang. Quentin slipped into his seat near the middle of the room and Buffy plopped down into the seat next to his. She watched as a tiny man – he probably only would have reached Buffy's hip if they were standing next to each other – climbed on top of a pile of books set up at the front of the classroom.

"Good morning class!" he said in a squeaky, high-pitched voice; it took a lot of Buffy's self-control to keep from laughing; he was just so cute!

"Good morning Professor Flitwick!" the class chorused back. Obviously, he was a well-liked teacher. He looked younger than most of the other teachers that Buffy had seen; then again, it could just be his size.

"I'd like to start off by welcoming Miss Summers to the class," Flitwick continued. "Would you like to tell us a bit about yourself, Miss Summers?"

This was the one thing that Buffy dreaded more than anything, the whole standing up in front of the class and telling something about herself. Especially in a school so small, she'd probably have to figure out new things to tell everyone; there was a high likelihood that many of the people she had in this class would be in her other classes as well.

"Go on Buffy, just get it over with," Quentin whispered to her. "The sooner you get it over with, the less painful it'll be."

Buffy sighed to herself before plastering a bright smile on her face. She got up from her desk and stood next to it so that everyone could see and hear her, but it saved her from the humiliation of standing up at the front of the class.

"Well, as most of you know, my name is Buffy Summers," Buffy began. "I grew up in Los Angeles, California with my parents, but moved to Sunnydale, California a couple of years ago. Being a California girl, I love the sun. Here's hoping the summer is decent around here!"

The room was so quiet you could hear crickets chirping as Buffy sat back down, her face heating up; she knew she was blushing. Flitwick chuckled a little before turning his attention back to the lesson at hand.

"That was very illuminating, Miss Summers. I suppose your name really does befit you," Flitwick said with a smile. Buffy smiled back; she supposed it did. "Now, on with the lesson. If you recall, we are mostly covering conjuring spells this year. If you turn to page one hundred and three, we will be attempting the Orchideous spell today. Now, can anyone tell me what the spell does?"

Buffy grabbed her book from her bag and located the page where the spell was located. Printed on the page was the spell name, the correct pronunciation, what the spell did and various uses for it. _Conjures a bouquet of flowers,_ Buffy though as she read. _That's kind of cute, actually._

"Miss Summers, do you have a thought?" Flitwick asked when the rest of the class had been silent for a few moments.

"According to the book, the spell conjures a bouquet of flowers," Buffy replied. Flitwick smiled at her encouragingly.

"Correct Miss Summers, five points to Gryffindor," Flitwick said. "Now that we know what the spell does, I'd say it's time to try it out. Please read the passage on the spell before you begin. Miss Summers, I would not worry if you don't get this spell right off the bat. It is a little on the more difficult side and it typically takes three or four times for my more experienced students to cast it successfully."

"I'll keep that in mind, Professor," Buffy said with a small smile before she turned back to the book. She read the page a couple of times before reaching into her bag to pull out her wand. She examined it for a few moments, caressing the smooth wood and looking at it from every angle.

"You're acting like you've never seen your wand before," Quentin whispered, leaning over to get a better look at the piece of wood in her hands.

"I didn't get a good chance to look at it when it picked me," Buffy replied. "I guess I was still in shock or something."

"It's a nice piece," Quentin remarked. "Ollivander's, right?"

"Are there any other wand makers?" Buffy asked.

"No good ones," Quentin replied with a shrug. "At least, if you ask anyone in Great Britain there aren't and other good wand makers."

"I see," Buffy said.

"Do you need any help?" Quentin asked. "I mean, Charms isn't my best subject, but it's not my worst either. I could help you with the wand movements, if you like."

"Sure, that would be nice," Buffy said. "Thank you."

"It's no problem," Quentin said, blushing a little. Together, they worked on the wand movements until it looked like Buffy had it down perfect. They had taken longer than the other students; most of them were already waving their wands and saying the spell, some even had bouquets coming out of the ends of their wands.

"Remember to have a clear image in your minds of what kind of flowers you would like to conjure," Flitwick reminded the class from his pile of books.

"I think it's about time we start adding in the words," Quentin suggested once it looked like both he and Buffy had the motions perfect. He closed his eyes and concentrated for a moment before waving his wand. "_Orchideous!_"

A bouquet of bright pink daisies appeared from the end of Quentin's wand. Blushing slightly, he removed them and handed them to Buffy.

"A little welcome to Hogwarts gift for the lady," he said, handing the flowers over to her. "Now you try."

"Aww, thank you," Buffy replied, taking the flowers and placing them on the desk before picking up her own wand. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the flowers she wanted – tulips – waved her wand and said the incantation. After a moment, she cracked an eye open. "Nothing happened."

"I'd be shocked if something did happen," Quentin said. "Come on, try again."

Buffy tried again. And again. And again. By the tenth time, Buffy had produced a rather limp and weak-looking flower but nothing more than that.

"This sucks," Buffy said, resisting the urge to throw her wand across the room.

"It'll be okay, you just need some more practice," Quentin replied, patting her awkwardly on the shoulder. He checked his watch. "Which you won't be getting in until later today at least, because it's almost lunchtime."

"Good, I'm starving," Buffy said, just as her stomach gave a loud rumble.

"Good work class," Flitwick said from the front of class. "I'm amazed at how many of you were able to make progress with the spell. For those who did not have success with the charm, I would like a two foot essay on the importance of learning the basics before attempting higher-level spells, due next class. Class dismissed."

"Lunchtime, my favourite time of day," Quentin said as he gathered up his books. Buffy did the same, careful to make sure that she picked up the flowers and took them with her. She'd have to make sure that they ended up in a vase of water by the end of the day; they were really pretty flowers, and she wanted to keep them for now.

"Come on, let's go before Flitwick gives me lots of catch up work," Buffy replied as she slung her bag over her shoulder. She followed Quentin out of the classroom and into the mob of students. She continued to follow him to the Great Hall; he knew the way far better than she did, after all.

"Are you going to sit with Min and them again?" Quentin asked.

"If they invite me," Buffy replied with a shrug. "To be honest, I feel kind of out of place sitting with them. Kind of like my first couple of days at Sunnydale High, actually, when I met my best friends."

"Do you miss them?" Quentin asked.

"Well, yeah," Buffy replied, sighing quietly.

"You don't want to talk about it, do you?" Quentin asked.

"Not right now, no," Buffy replied with an apologetic smile. "It's just… hard, I guess. Like I might start crying because I miss them so much and I really don't want to put you through that. I know how bad most guys are around a crying girl."

"Well, if you ever need anyone to talk to about that, I'm here," Quentin said as they arrived at the Great Hall. As soon as Buffy entered, she heard Minerva's voice calling her name.

"Buffy, Quentin, over here!"

Minerva was waving them over from the middle of the Gryffindor table, Terrance and August with her. She smiled and waved back before grabbing Quentin by the arm and dragging him over to her new friends.

"So, how are your classes going so far?" Terrence asked as Buffy plopped down and began dishing up her lunch.

"They're going okay," Buffy replied. "I've got a lot of work to do, but I made some progress in Charms."

"You're working on the Orchideous spell, aren't you?" August asked.

"That obvious, huh?" Buffy remarked before taking a bite of her lunch. Terrance stared at her plate for moment, his eyes wide. "What? I didn't put any weird food combinations on there, did I?"

"No, it's just that there's so much of it," Terrence said, still staring. "Are you going to eat all of that?"

"Are you calling me a pig?" Buffy asked, arching an eyebrow.

"No, no, no, nothing like that!" Terrence exclaimed. Buffy tried very hard to keep a straight face; sometimes it was kind of fun torturing people by talking them into a corner like that.

"It's okay, I'm used to it," Buffy said, patting him on the arm. "Crazy fast metabolism has its perks sometimes."

"So, did you conjure those?" August asked, pointing to the pink daisies next to Buffy's plate.

"Nope," Buffy replied. "Gotta know the basics before I can do that. Although I was able to get a dead flower out of my wand, but that didn't get me out of the extra work Flitwick gave for anyone who couldn't master the spell today. Quentin gave those to me."

"Oh, that's so sweet," Minerva remarked with a smile. "It's good to see people welcoming you with open arms."

However, there was something about her voice, and her smile didn't quite reach her eyes. Buffy filed that reaction away for later; there wasn't much point in bringing that up right now with everyone watching.

Lunch was a quiet affair after that, and before long plates were cleared and people were getting up to make their way to their afternoon classes. Terrence, Augusta and Minerva rose first.

"We've got Transfiguration on the seventh floor, so we should probably get going," Augusta explained with an apologetic smile. "We'll see you at dinner or something, okay?"

"Sounds like a plan," Buffy agreed, smiling back. She watched the seventh years leave, waiting until they had left the room before getting up and gathering up her things.

"Wanna show me to my next class?" Buffy asked, getting up and looking at Quentin.

"Sure, sounds like a plan," Quentin replied, getting up and gathering up his own bag and spare books. They followed the same route the three seventh years had taken, exiting the Great Hall shortly afterwards.

"What class do you have next?" Quentin asked when they emerged from the Great Hall and into the crush of students on their way to their next class. Buffy fished around in her bag for a moment, searching for her schedule.

"Divination," Buffy replied after glancing at it. "I have no idea what that is."

"Hogwash if you ask me, but good for a laugh from what I've heard," Quentin replied. "It's all about different methods of telling the future. You know, tea leaves, tarot cards, crystal balls, dream interpretation, astrology. That kind of thing. I'll be in Study of Ancient Runes at that time, but I'll walk you to the base of the tower and meet you there when class is out."

Buffy wrinkled her nose a little; Study of Ancient Runes would have been way more useful if she ever got back to Sunnydale and her own time. Of course, Divination would also be useful in interpreting some of her Slayer dreams, as they sometimes proved to be prophetic. At least, that's what she'd heard.

"Hey, Summers, you okay?" Quentin asked. Buffy blinked; she must have drifted off longer than she had thought.

"Yeah Quentin, I'm fine," Buffy replied. "Come on, I don't want to be late on my first day."

"Sure thing Summers," Quentin said. He led her through the hallways like a professional, weaving in and out of the other people around him; it took Buffy a little effort to follow him because he was ducking and weaving through the crowd so much.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were trying to lose me," Buffy remarked when Quentin finally stopped at the bottom of a spiral staircase.

"Sorry, it's just what I always do," Quentin replied sheepishly. "Since I'm so small, I've had to learn how to weave in and out of the crowds without getting trampled."

"You're still taller than me, so you've got that going for you," Buffy said with a grin. Quentin ducked his head and smiled sheepishly, a pink tinge washing over his cheeks.

"Anyway, to get to the classroom all you have to do is get to the top of the stairs," he said, pointing. Buffy looked up and gulped; there were a lot of stairs.

"So, the classroom is at the very top?" Buffy asked, craning her neck. She thought she could see the top, but she wasn't sure.

"Unfortunately," Quentin replied, wrinkling his nose. "It's one of the reasons why I decided against taking that class and took Ancient Runes instead. Anyway, have a good class and I'll see you in a couple of hours!"

Quentin waved good bye to Buffy before turning and rushing away, quickly getting lost in the throng. Buffy sighed and began her long ascent to the top of the tower. Thankfully she had Slayer stamina, which meant that she was barely winded by the time she got to the top of the stairs.

"Are you the new girl?" one of the girls standing at the top of the tower asked as Buffy arrived. The class was standing on a platform directly below a trapdoor, and all ten or so students were staring at her.

"Uh, yeah," Buffy replied, hitching her bag up on her shoulder and sticking her hand out. "Buffy Summers. Nice to meet you."

"I'm Ursula Brown," the girl said with a bright smile, ignoring Buffy's hand and pulling her into a hug. She stood there awkwardly for a moment, not sure what to do. Thankfully, Ursula didn't hug her long, and in no time she had withdrawn, a hand covering her mouth in surprise. "Oh, I do apologize! My mother always told me I have no sense of personal space. I didn't make you uncomfortable, did I?"

"No, no, I'm okay," Buffy replied, taking another moment to straighten her clothes. She was used to being randomly attacked with hugs, just not by complete strangers. "Just a little surprised, that's all. I've just heard that you Brits aren't into the whole touchy-feely thing."

"Well, I'm just a little bit different," Ursula replied proudly with a smile. "Hey, since you don't know anybody in this class, you can sit with me and my partner! I'm sure she won't mind at all, she's really easy-going. And hey, here she is now. Felicia!"

Another girl approached them then. She was tall and willowy, with long brown hair and huge, bright blue eyes; she towered over Buffy by at least six inches. _I feel like a midget,_ Buffy thought, slightly jealous.

"H-hi," the girl greeted shyly. Buffy noticed that she wasn't wearing the Gryffindor red and gold; her tie was striped with yellow and black, and the patch on her robe was also black and yellow with a badger emblazoned on it. "Y-you must be B-Buffy."

"Hi," Buffy said pleasantly, offering a reassuring smile; the girl smiled shyly back.

"Hey Felicia, do you mind if Buffy sits with us today?" Ursula asked.

"N-no, not at all," Felicia replied. Buffy wondered if the girl, Felicia, wouldn't have said "no" even if she wanted to. However, Buffy also didn't know the girl all that well at all, and reserved judgment until after she had gotten to know the girl a little better. "I'm Felicia, b-by the w-way."

"I'd noticed," Buffy said with another warm smile, although the smile didn't quite reach her eyes.

"O-of course," Felicia said quietly, lowering her eyes a little. Buffy wondered why the girl seemed so nervous around her, but didn't have much chance to think about it because at that moment a silvery ladder descended from the trapdoor that was about five feet above their heads.

"New girl first," Ursula said, gesturing to the ladder.

Buffy looked up at the ladder, wondering whose bright idea it was to have a ladder to get to a classroom when half of the students were required to wear skirts. Thankfully, it wasn't a short skirt, which made it difficult for anyone to try and sneak a peek. With a small sigh to herself, she began her ascent to the upper level of the tower, wondering what could be waiting for her when she got there.

A large, circular room greeted her, lit with candles and torches because the windows were covered by heavy drapes, blocking out all natural light. The fire was going strong, making the room stuffy; incense had been burning recently and it made Buffy's eyes burn. _Yep, definitely talking to Dumbledore about dropping this class,_ Buffy thought as she waited for Ursula and Felicia to come up the ladder, seeing as she didn't know where the other two girls usually sat.

"Ah, I see we have a new addition to our class," said a wispy voice from across the room. Buffy turned to see a woman sitting in a large armchair in front of the fire. She had long, brown hair, held back from her face with a kerchief. Her attire was an eclectic mix of wizarding and muggle clothing, and she had several beaded necklaces around her neck. Her long, thin fingers each had at least one ring adorning it; some had several. Buffy got the distinct impression that the woman was trying to emulate an old-world carnival fortune teller, and she was doing a damn good job of it.

"Yep, that's me," Buffy replied nervously, glancing behind her. She wondered where her classmates were; hadn't Ursula and Felicia been right behind her?

"I am Madame Cassandra Trelawney, the Divination instructor," the woman said, getting up from her seat and walking slowly across the room to stand in front of Buffy. The woman surprised the Slayer, seeing as she was shorter than even the blonde girl. It was strange, having to look down to speak to someone who was older than herself. The tiny older woman stood in front of Buffy, reaching up and holding Buffy's face in her cool, dry hands. Trelawney stared into Buffy's eyes for several moments before speaking again. "I see darkness in you child, far too much darkness for someone of your age. You will not be here for the duration of the year, I fear, and you will be thrown into the darkness again. Sad, sad, child, no one should have to endure that."

Trelawney broke her gaze from Buffy's and released her face before clapping her hands once and snapping her fingers. Buffy could hear a commotion from behind her as the trapdoor opened again the other students began making their way up the ladder. Trelawney made her way to the front of the room, shaking her head as if to clear it before sitting down in her large, wingback chair.

"Come on Buffy, we usually sit over here," said Ursula, surprising Buffy as she grabbed her by the arm and led her to a small round table near the middle of the room. She sat down with Ursula and Felicia, trying not to appear as if she were completely freaked out.

"B-Buffy, are y-y-you okay?" Felicia asked. _Damn, found out,_ Buffy thought. _Definitely talking to Dumbledore the first chance I get about switching out of this class._

"Sure, just had a major wiggins when I first walked in," Buffy replied with a small smile. "Does she always do that?"

"Does who always do what?" Ursula asked. "And what's a wiggins, I wonder?"

"I'll tell you later," Buffy said, jerking her head to the front of the room. Trelawney looked like she was about to start, and Buffy really didn't want to get into trouble on her first day.

"Okay then," Ursula said absently, her gaze riveted on the front of the room. Buffy sat and watched Trelawney as she began the class.

"Welcome back, those who are interested in unfogging and clearing up the future," she began as she started wandering between the tables, handing out a book to each person. When she reached Buffy, she turned to her and smiled slightly, a knowing smile. "And welcome to those who have decided to take this class for the first time, to gain knowledge of the future. We will be continuing today with dream interpretation; please open your dream journals and start interpreting them with the copies of _The Dream Oracle_ I have handed out to you. Miss Summers, you can start your dream journal today by writing down whatever you dreamed last night, and I would like your interpretation by the end of next class."

She handed Buffy another book, but this one was blank. The cover was purple, of all colors, and in gold writing on the front were the words _"Dream Journal"._ _Subtle much?_ Buffy thought to herself as she examined the book, flipping the pages back and forth.

"I really hope my dreams have a more positive meaning this time around," Ursula said as she opened up her own journal. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say that all of the interpretations of everything are extremely negative."

"W-well, if you'd st-st-stop lying about your d-dreams, you might g-get a more accurate r-reading," Felicia said matter-of-factly as she, too, opened up her dream journal and her copy of _The Dream Oracle_.

"Like I'm going to reveal my deepest, darkest dreams to her," Ursula said with a snort. "Come on, this class is a joke anyway. Like I'm ever going to need it in the future, especially because I don't have the gift of 'the Inner Eye'."

"Th-then why are y-y-you here?" Felicia asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Easy grade," Ursula replied with a shrug. "Am I right Buffy, or am I right?"

"I wouldn't know, Dumbledore picked my classes," Buffy replied with a shrug. "I didn't even know what Divination was until Quentin told me about it."

"Ah, I see," Ursula said with a shrug of her own. "Well, it's good to know that Dumbledore seems to have a sense of humour, if he did send you to this class because he thought you'd have an easy time of it. What other classes are you taking?"

"Transfiguration, Care of Magical Creatures, Charms, Potions, Herbology, Defence Against the Dark Arts and this one," Buffy replied. "I'm probably going to need a tutor or three, but it's all been figured out."

"Well, that's good," Ursula said. "Personally, I wouldn't have time to tutor someone, between the Gobstones club, Charms club, homework and my social life. I was ever so relieved when you said your tutoring situation was all figured out; I was terrified that you were going to ask me."

_Yep, definitely talking to Dumbledore about switching,_ Buffy thought with a sigh. She turned to her dream journal and began filling it out with her dream from the night before, even though there was a high possibility of her dropping the class.

The remainder of the lesson was passed in relative peace; Buffy worked with her head down, her full attention on her work. She could feel the eyes of her classmates on her, staring, but she tried to not let it bother her. Before Buffy knew what was happening, a loud bell sounded throughout the castle signifying the end of the lesson. Relieved, Buffy began packing up her things, carefully placing them into her bag.

"Miss Summers, a word if you please?" Professor Trelawney said as Buffy hefted her bag onto her shoulder.

"Do you want me and Felicia to wait for you downstairs?" Ursula asked.

"No, it's okay. If you see Quentin, let him know I've been held up and that I'll be down in a couple of minutes, okay?" Buffy replied. Ursula nodded once in understanding before turning and leaving the tower, Felicia on tow.

Professor Trelawney waited until the room was cleared before taking any action. She waved her hand and the trap door snapped shut, closing them off to the rest of the castle.

"What did you want to speak to me about?" Buffy asked, curious.

"Now, I know you didn't choose this course for yourself," Trelawney began. "However, I do hope that you will not allow the words of your classmates color your judgment of my class before you can experience it for yourself. You are the Slayer, yes?"

Buffy's eyes widened when she heard that. How did she know? Who had ratted her out? Who else knew? Was her secret identity in danger? She chewed her lip, worried, while trying to figure out a plan that didn't involve killing people and hiding the bodies.

"Don't worry, child, Dumbledore told me," Trelawney continued with a reassuring smile that did anything but. "He entrusted your secret with the professors he trusted most, to help you along the way while you are here."

"Wish he'd told me," Buffy muttered under her breath.

"Now, I'm pretty sure from what you've been told by your classmates that makes you believe that Divination is a load of crock," Trelawney continued, choosing to ignore Buffy's mutterings. "And, to those who don't have the gift of the Inner Eye, they're mostly right. While most Slayers don't have standard precognitive abilities like Seers do, they _do _have prophetic Slayer dreams. Because of what is being covered in your year in Divination and how it ties in with Slayer dreams, Dumbledore thought it would be a good idea for you to take this class. I do understand if you believe if Study of Ancient Runes might be more useful to you, though."

"Wow… um… thanks?" Buffy replied, not quite sure what else to say. Except for Principal Flutie and Giles, teachers hadn't really gone out of their way to help her out and settle in. Now, she had at least two teachers in her corner.

"Think nothing of it," Trelawney said with a smile. "Now, run along, I'm sure you have at least one more class to attend before the end of the day; I'll see you next week. Oh, and one more thing… be cautious of the female bear, her intentions with you are unclear and you should be wary of her. Befriend happiness, you'll need her. The one whose name means purity is anything but, but you may be able to help him if he lets you in. And don't forget about the fifth; never forget about the fifth."

Trelawney waved Buffy away, the trapdoor creaking open as she did so. Confused, Buffy turned and left the classroom, navigating herself down the ladder and the many stairs to the bottom of the tower.

When she got there, there was no one there. No Quentin, no Ursula, no Felicia. There weren't even any other students making their way to their next class.

How long had she been up there?

Taking a couple of deep, calming breaths, Buffy looked around frantically, trying to figure out where she needed to go to get to her next class.

"Lost, are we?"

Buffy turned to see who had spoken, although she already instinctively knew who it was. He always seemed to turn up in situations like this.

"Quentin was supposed to wait for me down here so he could show me to Care of Magical Creatures," Buffy replied, trying not to sound to worried.

"Looks like he forgot," Tom replied. "Although that seems a little out of character for him. Then again, I don't take a lot of time to study Gryffindors unless they're particularly interesting, so I could be wrong. Care of Magical Creatures, you say?"

"Yeah," Buffy said. "What about it?"

"Well, I could show you the way, if you like," Tom replied with a shrug. "It's no problem at all; I have a free block this afternoon. You might not get in on time, but you'll get to experience most of the class."

"Alright, fine," Buffy said, not really in the mood to argue. She had someone who was offering to help, and even though said someone was a little creepy and stalker-like at times, he hadn't led her astray yet.

"Excellent," Tom said with a smile, holding out his arm.

"I can walk on my own, you know," Buffy replied, not taking the arm.

"A gentleman always offers a lady his arm, and a lady usually accepts," Tom retorted. "Come on, it won't bite."

Buffy sighed to herself before taking the arm, not wanting to waste any more time. Silently, Tom led her through the castle, through several secret stairways and secret passages. They were on the main floor within minutes, and on the grounds shortly afterwards. He walked with her until the Care of Magical Creatures paddock was visible.

"You just have to go down that way to the paddock and your class will be there," Tom said, pointing. "Hopefully you don't end up with detention for being tardy; I've heard that Ramsay can be strict about that kind of thing."

"Thanks Riddle… Tom," Buffy said, smiling gratefully as she extracted her hand from his arm. She turned and sprinted towards the paddock, hoping that she wouldn't get into trouble for being late. That was the last thing she needed.

****

ack, I'm sorry this took so long, but in return for your patience you got an extra long chapter. Kind of a win, right?

I'm not sure if I'm entirely happy with how this chapter turned out, but it really needed to get out. Hopefully the story will come a little more easily after this little hump. As always, I appreciate reviews, whether they be positive, negative or constructive. Thanks for reading.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Buffy sprinted as fast as she could to the group of students gathered around a teacher and some creatures that Buffy couldn't quite describe. Half horse, half eagle and rather interesting looking, Buffy was sure they weren't demon because they weren't setting off her Slayer sense. However, it was obvious they were magical creatures because she had never seen or heard of such things back home.

She was about twenty feet away from the paddock, slowing her stride so that she didn't collide with the people on the edge of the group, when she slipped on a patch of mud. She windmilled her arms in an attempt to regain her balance, but it was too late. Buffy fell into what had to be the squishiest, wettest patch of mud in the entire Hogwarts grounds, landing with a loud, wet squelching noise.

The entire class turned at the sound. Titters started breaking through the crowd, then giggles, and then all out laughter. Buffy rolled her eyes and got up from the mud slick with as much dignity as she could muster, managing to slip a couple more times in the process.

"Okay, a little help here?" Buffy asked, gesturing to her mud-splattered clothes. "Someone's gotta know a cleaning spell or something."

"I've got it," Quentin said quietly, coming to the front of the group. He waved his wand and muttered a couple of words that Buffy couldn't make out, and she was instantly clean, if feeling a little violated.

"I see you have deigned to grace us with your presence," the Professor said, arching an eyebrow. "Miss Summers, I presume? I hope you have a good excuse for being late, otherwise I'm going to have to give you detention."

"Madam Trelawney kept me a couple of minutes after class and I got lost on my way down here," Buffy replied, chewing on her lip and looking apologetic. "I'm sorry and it won't happen again."

"Perhaps you should have someone to show you around for the first couple of days so that this will not happen again," the Professor said with a withering look at her before he launched into his lecture.

Buffy sighed and made her way to where Quentin was standing near the back of the group, idly wondering why because of his height. She just hoped that after this class Minerva wouldn't pile on the tutoring work. While she knew that there was a lot of work to be done before she was even remotely up to scratch with the magic making, but she was feeling so overwhelmed with everything that had happened today.

"What happened to you?" Quentin asked when Buffy reached him.

"What do you mean what happened to me?" Buffy asked, arching an eyebrow. "What happened to you? I told Ursula to tell you that I would be right down and to wait for me."

"That's not what she said," Quentin replied. "She told me that you said to go on without you and that you would be fine on your own. I guess you weren't fine on your own?"

"No," Buffy replied with a sigh. "Riddle found me and showed me where I needed to go. Still would have preferred to find it on my own, but he just wouldn't leave me alone."

"I would call you lucky because he doesn't really pay attention to anyone except Slytherins, but you're really not," Quentin said quietly.

"I'd be more than happy if he would just leave me alone," Buffy said with a sigh.

"Miss Summers!" the professor said sharply, causing Buffy to jump, startled.

"Yes, sir?" Buffy asked, uncertain.

"One more peep out of you and you're in detention. No excuses!" the professor all but snarled. Buffy snapped her mouth shut and began paying attention to the lecture. He was talking about Hippogriffs, which were large creatures, apparently a combination between an eagle and a horse. As the professor went on about different aspects of Hippogriffs, Buffy leaned over to Quentin.

"Is he always that grouchy?" she whispered to him, hoping that her voice was soft enough that the professor wouldn't be able to hear her. As Quentin shook his head and shrugged slightly, the professor turned, his eyes blazing and his nostrils flaring, obviously angered.

"That's it, Miss Summers, detention. You will meet me in the Entrance Hall after dinner at eight o' clock. I'm sure I'll be able to find something for you to do that will make you think twice about speaking out of turn," he said quietly. Buffy gulped, wondering if there was anything she could say or do right now to plead her case, but nothing came to mind. He didn't seem like the kind of man who would take excuses, either. Kind of reminded her of Principal Snyder, only not as short and actually kind of intimidating.

Buffy remained silent for the remainder of the lesson, which thankfully wasn't that long at all. When the loud gong sounded across the grounds signifying the end of class, Buffy let out a sigh of relief when the professor dismissed them for dinner.

"And remember Miss Summers, detention, eight o'clock. If you're late again, you'll be in detention for the next week," the professor said. Oddly, Buffy hadn't found out what the professor's name was during the course of the lesson. It was something she'd have to ask Quentin during dinner if she got a chance.

"Rough break, Buffy," Quentin said sympathetically as they walked back up to the castle, avoiding the slippery mud patches scattered throughout the grass less they end up like Buffy had at the beginning of the lesson.

"I don't think this day could get any worse," Buffy groaned, leaning slightly on Quentin in mock despair.

"It probably could," Quentin replied. "Minerva isn't going to be too happy that you got detention on your first day."

"Ugh, I wanted to get out of tutoring tonight, but this totally wasn't the way I wanted to do it," Buffy said with another groan. "This is the last thing I need, seriously."

"You'll be fine," Quentin said reassuringly. "Professor Ramsay was just in a mood today, probably because the weather's getting worse. He doesn't like teaching in a classroom using diagrams and illustration, preferring to give us a hands-on experience with the creatures."

"I see," Buffy said as they reached the castle doors. They entered the castle and joined the rest of the students heading to dinner, moving with the rest of the Gryffindors to their designated table. Buffy plopped down into a seat near the middle of the table and Quentin sat next to her.

"Mmm, all of my favourites," Quentin said with a smack of his lips. Roast beef, Yorkshire pudding, mashed potatoes and mixed vegetables with enough gravy to smother the food several times over. "I wonder if we'll have roast beef sandwiches and chips with gravy for lunch tomorrow?"

"I dunno, I guess we'll have to wait and see," Buffy replied. Her eyes traveled over the serving dishes piled high with food. _Even with the Slayer metabolism, if I keep eating stuff like this I'm not going to be able to fit into my cheerleading uniform_, Buffy thought. _That is, if I ever do get to go home_. She became subdued after that, the reality of never being able to get back to her own time beginning to hit her She surveyed the food again, wondering what she should take first when her gaze fell on a platter of bread-like things she had never seen before. She pointed at the Yorkshire pudding. "Quentin, what are those?"

"You've never seen Yorkshire pudding?" Quentin asked, incredulous. Buffy shook her heas, smiling slightly when he began to get a little worked up as he explained the wonder that was Yorkshire pudding. He was just at the end of his explanation and in the process of pouring some gravy on the two Yorkshire puddings he'd put on her plate when Terrence, Augusta and Minerva arrived.

"You're not going to cut her meat for her too, are you?" Terrence teased, arching an eyebrow and glancing pointedly at Quentin's hand, which was still holding the gravy boat over Buffy's plate.

"No, of course not," Quentin said quickly, blushing slightly as he put the gravy boat down and folded his hands in his lap. "Buffy'd never had Yorkshires before, and I was just showing her the best way to enjoy them. I guess I just got a little overexcited, that's all."

"So, how did you enjoy your other classes, Buffy?" Minerva asked, changing the subject after several moments of slightly awkward silence.

"Divination was kind of interesting," Buffy replied with a shrug. Minerva snorted, but said nothing else. "Madam Trelawney kept me a couple of minutes after and by the time I got back downstairs everyone was gone. Tom Riddle found me and showed me where to go, but I think I might have been better off just skipping class."

She went on to describe what had happened next, culminating with the revelation that she had detention that night.

"You have detention tonight?" Minerva repeated, arching an eyebrow.

"I'm impressed, Summers. Even I haven't managed to get detention on the first day!" Terrence exclaimed, earning him a glare from Minerva and a smack on the arm from Augusta. "And some days I wonder why I'm friends with you two. Today is one of those days."

"It's not like it was my fault the professor was in a bad mood," Buffy replied. "If someone had done what they were going to do, I probably wouldn't have been late and I definitely wouldn't have ended up in the mud."

"Hey, don't look at me!" Quentin exclaimed defensively, holding his hands up in surrender.

"Wasn't you I was talking about," Buffy replied, glaring down the table to where Ursula was sitting. The girl spotted Buffy and smiled, wiggling her fingers in greeting, but the smile didn't quite reach her eyes. Buffy turned her head away from Ursula, her attention back to the seventh years in front of her and the sixth year sitting beside her.

"Oh, you've had the pleasure of meeting Ursula Brown," Augusta said sagely, nodding once.

"I'm guessing you have, too?" Buffy asked.

"Unfortunately," Augusta said with a slight grimace. "I don't want to speak ill of others, but that Ursula is a real piece of work. She can be nice, but usually only if you can do something for her. I'd be careful if I were you. A good shopping buddy and someone to share small talk, but I wouldn't trust any deep, dark secrets with her."

"I see," Buffy said with a small nod before she finally started eating. Terrence stared as she began to clear her plate; besides the two Yorkshires, Buffy had loaded her plate with roast beef, mashed potatoes and vegetables, smothering everything in gravy. After swallowing a couple of bites, she glared at the boy. "Seriously, you watching me eat is kind of creepy. Quit it."

"I'm sorry, it's just that I haven't seen that before," Terrence replied, gulping a little when he saw Buffy's expression. "Come on, Quentin agrees with me. Right, Quentin?"

"Hmm?" Quentin asked, glancing up from the book that he had pulled out sometime in between pouring Buffy's gravy for her and the current moment.

"Have you ever seen a girl eat so much?" Terrence asked, gesturing towards Buffy's plate.

"Seriously, it's really creepy that you're making such a big deal about this," Buffy said quickly, making a mental note to tone down the portions from now on to keep Terrence from drawing attention to how much she ate. It didn't help that the other two girls in the group were beginning to look jealous, although they did their best to hide it. Buffy wildly looked around to find something to distract from the food in general and spotted Quentin, who had gone back to his book. "Hey Quentin, what are you reading? It looks interesting."

"Oh, this?" Quentin asked, gesturing to the big, old-looking book in front of him. Buffy smiled and nodded encouragingly. He held it up so that everyone could see the title. "It's a book my dad sent me, because I'm so interested in Defence Against the Dark Arts and he thought I might enjoy it."

Buffy read the title. _Vampyre._ It looked a lot like the book Giles had given her the first time they had met, only not as old. She gulped a little, memories coming back to her in a flood.

"So, ah, are vampires real?" Buffy asked, trying to keep her tone light.

"Yeah, they're considered dark creatures in this world," Quentin replied with a shrug as he placed a piece of paper in the crease of the book to mark his place. "But I guess you grew up being told vampires were the things of horror stories and nightmares, right?"

"Uh yeah, something like that," Buffy replied with a small laugh, becoming uncomfortable. She had kind of hoped that the Slayer side of her life wouldn't cross with the newfound wizarding side. It would be just too weird if someone other than Dumbledore and his trusted professors had found out that she was a thing of bedtime stories. She took another couple of bites of her dinner before changing the subject again. "So, who's going to show me to the dorms before I have to head out to detention?"

"August and I will," Terrence said with a wink to Minerva as he wiped his mouth with his napkin. "You're done, aren't you August?"

"Yes, that's right," August replied, winking at Minerva also. "Come on Buffy, we'll take you up there and get you back down to the Entrance Hall in plenty of time. Wouldn't want to give Professor Ramsay another reason to dislike you, now do we?"

The trio got up from the table, and with waves to the two people they left behind, they left the Great Hall. Buffy could feel a pair of eyes on her as she left, and when she glanced over her shoulder she saw Tom Riddle staring at her. Again. _Seriously, doesn't he have anything better to do?_ Buffy thought, mentally rolling her eyes.

"So, what was with all the winking?" Buffy asked when they were out of the Great Hall and on their way to the seventh floor, where the entrance to the Gryffindor common room was.

"Oh, Quentin's had a crush on Minerva since the moment he met her," Terrence replied as he led her up the stairs. "I try to leave them alone as much as possible, to see if he'll drum up some of that Gryffindor courage and ask her out. So far it's been unsuccessful, but there's still a lot of year left before she's finished at Hogwarts."

"So, what's between you and Tom Riddle?" August asked as they hit the fourth floor. "I keep seeing him staring at you. What's the dish?"

Buffy tried to pay attention to where they were going so that she wouldn't have to ask someone to show her later, but it was difficult because all of the moving staircases. She was going to have a hell of a time trying to find her way on her own.

"There's nothing," Buffy replied with a shrug. "He was asked by Dippet to show me to his office on my first full day here, and he's been following me around ever since. Professor Slughorn made him my Potions partner because he's apparently the best student in the class and let's face it, I need the help. He's my own little stalker, turning up when I least expect it."

"I see," August said. They were rounding on the sixth floor now, almost there apparently. "Have you met anyone else?"

"Well, there's one more person I met," Buffy replied slowly. Maybe she could get some more information on one Rubeus Hagrid, if she asked carefully enough. "Rubeus Hagrid. Have you heard of him?"

"Oh, him," August said with a sad smile.

"I'm guessing you have," Buffy deduced.

"He seemed like a good kid," Terrence said as they made their way up the last, long staircase to the seventh floor. _I feel sorry for any kid in a wheelchair who gets accepted at this school, _Buffy thought, although she hadn't seen nary a wheelchair in sight. Then again, it was the 1940's; maybe children with special needs didn't attend regular schools, even if they were for magic.

"I never thought he'd turn out like he did," August said quietly, more to herself than to Terrence and Buffy. Buffy made a mental note to ask Hagrid about this the next time she saw him; she was getting conflicting information about him from two different sources, and she wanted the truth. She felt a connection of sorts with the younger boy, and would like to strengthen that friendship if she could.

"Anyway, here we are," Terrence said as he came to a stop in front of a portrait. It was a portrait of a fat lady in a pink dress.

"Password?" the portrait asked imperiously.

"Would you like to do the honours, Buffy?" Terrence asked.

"Uh, sure," Buffy replied, straining to remember the password. Minerva had told it to her at breakfast that morning, but because of everything that had gone on since then, the information had been filed in the deep recessions of her mind, never to be seen again if she hadn't been reminded of it. "Umm… fiddlesticks?"

The woman in the portrait smiled and the frame swung open, much like the ballerina painting concealing the entrance to her former room had done. Terrence gestured for her to enter first, which she did, August following her and Terrence brining up the rear. The portrait swung closed behind them, concealing the Gryffindor common room from the rest of the castle.

"Welcome to the Gryffindor common room, the best common room in the castle," Terrence said once they were all inside. Brightly lit and crowded with furniture, the large circular room was decorated in Gryffindor colors and looked very, very cozy.

"How would you know?" August asked, arching an eyebrow at him. "Have you visited any of the other common rooms?"

"Have you?" Terrence shot back.

"I've been invited into the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw common rooms a couple of times," August replied with a smirk.

"Who was doing the inviting and why haven't I been told about it?" Terrence asked, his voice a little stiffer.

"Please, can we have this talk later? Alone?" August said pointedly, jerking her head towards Buffy.

"Fine," Terrence agreed. Buffy was glad that she wouldn't be around to see that argument; she had a feeling there were going to be fireworks.

"Come on Buffy, I'll show you to the sixth year girl's dorms before we take you back down to the Great Hall," August said, leading her up a staircase that was clearly labelled "Girls". "You'll unfortunately have to share a room with Ursula, but hopefully she'll leave you alone. The other girls in your year aren't as bad, but since they're friends with Ursula it might be a good idea not to get too terribly close to them."

"Gotcha," Buffy replied, taking in the information as best she could. She vaguely wondered if she should get into the habit of carrying around a notebook and a pen to jot down notes every so often so that she wouldn't forget anything.

"Anyway, here we are," August said as she led her into the sixth room from the top. "Seventh years are one room above yours, and fifth years are one below. Your bed is the one closest to the door, it looks like."

A fifth bed had been added to the room, a shiny new trunk positioned at the end of it. The wood gleamed and the bedding was impeccable. The other four beds were made as well, but that section of the room looked much more lived in. A spare book on a table, a sock poking out from underneath the bed, that sort of thing.

"You should probably grab your cloak before you head out for detention," August said, gesturing towards the trunk. "It gets mighty chilly around here at night."

"Don't remind me," Buffy said with a grimace as she popped the latches of the trunk open before rooting around for her cloak, making an effort to keep everything orderly. There would be lots of time for her to mess everything up, but right now she wanted to have some time where all of her things were neatly in one place.

"Okay, I'm ready," Buffy said, pulling out the cloak that Dumbledore had given her the other day. Making sure her bag was on her bed, Buffy folded the cloak over her arm and turned to August.

Buffy was led down the stairs to the common room. Terrence had been sitting by the fire, but as soon as he saw them he shot to his feet, grinning broadly.

"All set, ladies?" he asked. Buffy nodded, smiling back. "Well then, let's hop to it. Ramsay gets quite cross when people are late, as you well have found out."

"Yeah, he promised me another week of detention if I was late tonight," Buffy replied with a wrinkle of her nose. "Please tell me he's the only teacher like that. I don't think I could live with more than that."

"Most profs are pretty decent, considering they're teachers," Terrence replied with a shrug. "Some are dead boring, but most are all right. Now come on, I don't want you kept from our company for an entire week."

Terrence turned and led them out of the common room and into the corridor. The trip back down to the first floor seemed to take far less time, and before Buffy was entirely ready they were in the Entrance Hall. Professor Ramsay was there, as was Hagrid. Buffy smiled at the large boy, causing him to smile back. Then her eyes fell on the last person in the group.

"Oh hell no," Buffy muttered under her breath.

Tom Riddle was there as well. He smirked at Buffy as she approached; she tried her best to make her expression neutral. There was no way she was going to let Riddle make this night any worse than it already is. _Well, at least I've got Hagrid on my side,_ Buffy thought. _And hey, I might be able to get some answers out of him tonight!_

"Well, this is where we leave you, Buffy," Terrence said with a sympathetic smile. "What time do you expect to be back, Professor Ramsay?"

"Probably close to midnight, if we get everything done," Ramsay replied coolly. "You have my permission to come and collect Miss Summers at that time. Or, what's left of her."

Buffy gulped, hoping that he was just trying to intimidate her, frighten her. She wasn't going to let him get to her; she'd faced down people and beings far more terrifying than this professor, even though he was built like some of the larger vampires she had taken down.

"Come along, Miss Summers. We have much to do and not much time to do it," said Professor Ramsay, gesturing her to follow himself and the other two companions. Buffy glanced over her shoulder, shooting a pleading look at Terrence and August, but all she got was sympathetic looks in return. Resigned, Buffy followed the professor and his assistants out into the darkness, wondering what was in store for her next.

***

*dodges any projectiles thrown in my general direction*

I am SO SORRY this hasn't gotten out sooner. I'm horrible, I know. I'm addicted to the television and books, which really doesn't leave a lot of time to sit down and write fic. *le sigh* I promise I'll do better.

As always, reviews in general are loved, constructive criticism is helpful and flames will be used to toast marshmallows to make s'mores.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Buffy pulled on her cloak as she stepped outside, shivering against the damp chill that seemed to seep through the thick fabric. She walked slightly quicker to catch up, reaching Hagrid in no time.

"Hello, Hagrid," Buffy greeted him with a smile.

"Hullo, Miss Summers," Hagrid replied, smiling shyly down at her.

"Do I need to remind you to call me Buffy?" Buffy asked. "When people call me Miss Summers it makes me think I'm in trouble."

"Might I remind you, _Miss Summers_, that you are in detention because you got into trouble in my class?" Ramsay asked, glaring at Buffy over his shoulder from his place several paces ahead. "I believe that Mr. Hagrid has the right idea in calling you Miss Summers, given the circumstances."

Buffy stuck her tongue out at his back when he turned to face forward again.

"Don't worry about him, he's just in a mood," Hagrid reassured her, patting her arm gently.

"So I've been told," Buffy replied with a roll of her eyes. "So, what does my detention entail tonight?"

"I think we're going into the Forbidden Forest," Hagrid replied.

"Isn't it supposed to be, y'know, forbidden?" Buffy asked. "As in, no one allowed to go in?"

"Usually that's the case," Hagrid replied. "But sometimes there are things in the forest that need to be done. That's where I come in. It's part of my job, here at the school, and sometimes I get asked to help out with detentions that lead students into the forest."

"Okay, so I get why you're here, because you're all with the helping out and stuff," Buffy said before jabbing her thumb in Tom's direction. He was walking ahead of them, next to Professor Ramsay. "But what's he doing here? Aren't prefects supposed to be all with the rule following and not getting into trouble?"

"You're assuming I'm here because I got into trouble," Tom said, glancing at her over his shoulder. "Prefects are asked to help supervise detentions from time to time, especially detentions like this one where the task may be a little more dangerous than usual."

Buffy wondered what kind of school would allow students to go into a dangerous forest, at night, to serve detention. Even when Sunnydale High School had been under the thumb of the evil troll Principal Snyder, the worst thing Buffy had had to do was take some kids out during Halloween, the quietest night in the supernatural world, apparently. At least, it wouldn't have been dangerous if Ethan Rayne hadn't turned her little group into their costumes.

"Don't listen to him, Buffy, the Forest isn't as bad as everyone says," Hagrid said with a reassuring smile. "Yeh just need to know which creatures to trust and which to steer clear from. Calling it forbidden just keeps students from going in and getting lost. Most of the time, anyway."

"We're here," Professor Ramsay said as he stopped by the edge of the forest. Squinting, Buffy could just barely make out a trail winding into the dark trees. "Now, here is where we split up. Hagrid, you're with me. Summers, you're with Riddle. No arguments, I don't want to hear it. My third year class is going to be studying mokes this term, and I would like to procure some of them for the children to study before the weather turns sour. Once you capture five in the boxes I will provide you with, you may go back to the castle. A simple petrificus spell should be enough to subdue them. Send up some red sparks when you're done and I'll send Hagrid over to guide you back to the grounds. All clear? Do you even know what a moke is, Miss Summers? Or how to do a simple petrificus spell?"

"I'm sure you know the answer to that," Buffy replied, trying to keep the snap out of her voice Yep, this guy was way worse than Snyder.

"Get Riddle to show you, I don't have the patience to teach first year spells to a sixth year," Ramsay said with a dismissive wave. "Come along Hagrid, you and I will take the right fork. Summers, you and Riddle take the left once you've figured out what you're catching and how you're catching it. I don't want to be out here all night, so the sooner you figure out what you're doing the sooner you can get on with this and complete your task."

Hagrid smiled sympathetically at Buffy as he handed his lantern to Tom before heading over to follow Ramsay down the path. This left Buffy alone with Tom, who was smirking at her.

"What's so funny?" Buffy asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Nothing," Tome replied with a small smile.

"So, are you going to show me this spell or what?" Buffy asked, arching an eyebrow. "And what's a yoke?"

"I think you mean a moke," Tom said with another amused smirk. "I could explain what a yoke is, but we'd be here all night. Here, we'll kill two birds with one stone, so to speak, because I think I see a moke to petrify."

"Ooh, where?" Buffy asked, trying not to sound terribly excited, but it was hard. There was new magic to be learned, and considering it was a first year spell she was going to learn, it couldn't be too difficult.

Tom smiled slightly as he lifted the lantern high, illuminating more of the path and a large tree about ten feet away. There was nothing particularly interesting about the tree, except for the fact that there was a lizard, about six inches in length, on the trunk.

"See the lizard?" Tom whispered so as not to startle the creature, pointing at it.

"Yeah, what about it?" Buffy asked, wondering where this was going.

"Follow me and keep your eyes on the lizard," Tom said as he approached the large tree. As they approached, Buffy saw the lizard get smaller and smaller until they finally reached the tree. The lizard had shrunk to about half an inch in length, and it stood perfectly still on that tree trunk.

"Now I'm going to show you how to do the spell to make sure the little guy won't get away," Tom continued. "I'm going to demonstrate the spell, but you're going to be the one who casts it. Sound fair?"

"I suppose so," Buffy said uncertainly. Her first experience with magic earlier that day hadn't gone as well as she had hoped, so she was naturally wary about waving her wand and saying funny words.

"Did someone have an unpleasant experience with magic today?" Tom asked, smirking playfully.

"No comment," Buffy replied quickly. "Now what's the what with the spell?"

"We really need to work on keeping you from butchering the English language like that," Tom said with a sigh and a shake of his head, but he was smirking in amusement. "Now, this spell is ridiculously easy. All you have to do is point your wand at whatever living object you want to petrify and say _petrificus totalis._ It's one of the easiest and first spells students are taught in Defence Against the Dark Arts. It's not permanent and can be thrown off by a particularly strong witch or wizard without a countercurse, but it'll serve our purposes here. Now, you try."

"Okay, here goes," Buffy said, taking a deep breath as she extracted her wand from the special pocket sewn inside the sleeve of her robe. She pointed her wand at the moke and concentrated. "_Petrificus totalis!"_

A sheen seemed to settle over the moke, and it was still as stone. For good measure, Buffy experimentally poked the little lizard with her finger, smiling to herself when it didn't move and, indeed, felt like stone.

"Congratulations on casting your first successful spell," Tom remarked with a smirk. "Now, let's get that little bugger into the box and move on."

Tom held the box underneath the moke, in the perfect position to catch it as he poked the little lizard with his finger. It dropped to the bottom of the box, landing with a dull thudding sound.

"That's not going to hurt the thing, is it?" Buffy asked, worried. She may be the Slayer, and she may kill creatures of the night on a regular basis (or, at least, she did before she got sent to Hogwarts), but that didn't mean she didn't worry about hurting harmless little woodland creatures getting hurt because of something she had done.

"Nothing permanent," Tom replied. "It'll survive, mostly because the charm completely petrifies the object of the spell, hardening their skin into a rock-like substance until the spell is lifted. It should be fine until that happens."

"Okay then," Buffy said, sounding unsure but she didn't have a reason to doubt him. Besides the fact that he sort of but not really set of her Slayer senses, he had been nothing but normal and pleasant to her. "Hey, how do you know this stuff? You don't take Care of Magical Creatures, do you?"

"I don't anymore," Tom replied with a shrug as he turned and began walking down the path, heading further into the forest. "I started taking it in third year when more advanced courses became open to me, but found that it wasn't quite right for me. Besides, it didn't quite mesh with what I wanted to do when I leave Hogwarts, and the more relevant my courses are the easier it will be for me to get the job I want."

"Makes sense," Buffy said as she followed Tom deeper into the forest.

It was quiet, too quiet, which tipped Buffy off to something wrong instantly. With her Slayer hearing, Buffy could hear the barest of whispers, the softest of rustlings, but except for her own and Tom's footsteps, she couldn't hear anything. She couldn't even hear Professor Ramsay or Hagrid, and they couldn't be too far off; the paths didn't look like they diverged that much. The lack of sound gave Buffy a very bad feeling, one she was sure anyone around her could sense.

"Buffy, are you all right?" Tom asked, breaking Buffy out of her thoughts.

"Yeah, I'm okay," Buffy replied quickly.

"Really? Because you seem on edge," Tom said turning around to face her. "I thought you Gryffindors were supposed to be brave or some rot like that."

"I just have a bad feeling, that's all," Buffy replied. "It could be anything or nothing. Let's just get this thing finished so that we can get back to the castle already."

"I like the way you think," Tom said before he turned and headed further into the woods. Buffy walked quickly to catch up, only to find a figure blocking their path.

"Two lost little children wandering through the woods," she said. "Did you not leave a trail of breadcrumbs so you could find your way home?"

She was petite, with long dark hair and eerie pale blue eyes. Her skin was so pale that it seemed to glow in the moonlight with an ethereal light. Dressed in a flimsy white nightgown, she should have been freezing; Buffy was shivering underneath her heavy cloak, and she'd been walking and keeping active. Despite her appearance, the woman gave off a dangerous air, one that made the hairs on the back of Buffy's neck stand straight.

"Or maybe not such a lost little child," said the woman with a dreamy smile before her face morphed into a demonic visage. "Slayer."

"Vampire," Buffy acknowledged, dropping into a natural fighting stance. Drusilla the crazy vampire stood in front of them, much stronger than she had been when Buffy had encountered her in Sunnydale. Even in her weakened state, she had taken down a Slayer. "Tom, get out of here, quick! Go find Hagrid and Ramsay, just get out of here!"

Buffy was unable to give out any more instructions as Drusilla lunged at her, fingers hooked into claws, sharpened fingernails ready to strike.

The fight was fast, furious and vicious. Drusilla was fast, one of the fastest vampires Buffy had fought in a while. Attacks were landed and dodged with a furor that would only have been matched by a battle with Angelus.

Buffy finally landed a kick to Drusilla's stomach, sending her flying. The only thing that stopped her was a large tree trunk, which she collided with and splintered. That didn't stop the vampire for long, though, as she quickly scrambled to her feet, snarling at Buffy as she got ready to pounce again. The only thing that stopped her was the sounds of someone stumbling through the bush and a voice calling her name.

"Dru! Drusilla! Where have you gone off to, you crazy bint?"

Drusilla snarled again before she turned and ran through the forest, heading towards the voice calling her name. Buffy stood there, breathing hard, and watched her leave. It was only when she heard a sound behind her that she snapped out of "Slayer Mode" and paid attention to the rest of her surroundings.

"What the hell are you still doing here?" she asked Tom, frantic. He was standing there, blinking at her with a look of disbelief on his face. "I told you to run. You could have gotten hurt. Or worse, eaten!"

"What just happened?" Tom asked. He glanced at Buffy's forehead, where a cut was bleeding. "You're hurt! What the hell were you thinking, taking on a vampire bare handed? Bloody Gryffindor bravado like that will get you killed."

"Which is why I told you to run and save your neck," Buffy replied. "What's worse, one person dead or two people dead?"

"We have to tell someone about this," Tom said.

"And say what, exactly?" Buffy asked. "Because telling people a tiny blonde girl fought a vampire and sent her flying sounds kinda crazy if you think about it."

"Well, we don't need to include that," Tom replied.

"Then how would you explain the fact that we're not, y'know, dead in the middle of the forest and drained of all our blood or walking around as vampires?" Buffy asked.

"I have taken nearly six years of Defence Against the Dark Arts and besides Potions it's my best subject," Tom replied. "We've learned several spells that would be effective against vampires. I'm sure it would be believable that I would be able to hold off one vampire, causing it to run off to lick its wounds."

Buffy sighed; she really hoped that this aspect of her life wouldn't be discovered by the Hogwarts students. At least, not this quickly. It was Sunnydale all over again. There was even that stupid _Vampyre_ book Giles had tried to force on her on her first day!

"Buffy, are you okay?" Tom asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Buffy replied with another sigh.

"Well then, come on. We should get back to the castle," Tom said, jerking his head in the direction that would lead them out of the forest. "At least to get that cut looked at. It could get infected and leave a nasty scar if it doesn't heal properly."

"It's just a little cut, it'll heal fine on its own," Buffy replied with a shrug. Given the choice between Dippet and the hospital, Buffy chose Dippet. She didn't trust him as far as Willow could throw him, and she was sure the headmaster didn't like her much, either, but if it meant avoiding a hospital, she would bite the bullet and deal with the older man. "And should we continue with the detention? I doubt Ramsay would qualify 'vampire attack' as a valid excuse for skipping out on detention."

"You leave him to me," Tom said. "I'll make sure you don't get punished for this if you go to Dippet right now. If you're more comfortable, we can go to Dumbledore if you want."

"Okay, fine, if it means I get out of the forest and avoid the hospital, I'll go," Buffy replied with a sigh. "But we're going to Dumbledore."

"Didn't I give you that as one of the options?" Tom asked, getting exasperated. "Now that we have that settled, let's go already, before they decide we're not actually a threat and come back for seconds!"

"Speak for yourself," Buffy muttered under her breath before she straightened her back. "Lead the way, Tom, because you know the forest way better than I do."

Tom led them through the forest, keeping to the path, and before long they were at the edge of the Hogwarts lawn. Tom cut across the grass at a fast clip, causing Buffy and her short legs to jog to keep up. It wasn't strenuous on her body, it was just annoying that he wouldn't slow down slightly so that she would be able to keep up at a comfortable pace.

The trip to the castle was silent, and but for their footsteps on the stone floor their trip to the seventh floor was the same. They reached Professor Dumbledore's office in record time and Tom wasted no time in knocking on the door loudly. They didn't have to wait long, as the door creaked open only moments after Tom had knocked on it.

"Mr. Riddle, Miss Summers, what a surprise," Dumbledore said with a curious expression on his face. "To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?"

"We wish to speak to you," Tom replied. "Something happened while Buffy was in detention in the forest and we thought you ought to know."

"And this information didn't warrant a notification to the professor supervising the detention?" Dumbledore asked mildly.

"This is something that concerns school security and we thought one of the head professors should know first, before it might spread around the school," Tom replied. "Since Buffy felt more comfortable coming to you, we decided that you would be best to tell."

"Alright then," Dumbledore said, nodding once in agreement. "Please, come in and tell me what happened. Would you like some tea? Or perhaps a lemon drop?"

"No thank you, sir," Tom replied. Dumbledore set his gaze on Buffy, the same questions implied in his eyes. Buffy shook her head as she sat down, remaining silent. She decided to remain silent and let Tom tell the story; after all, it had been his idea and his cover story in the first place.

Tom launched into the story, lying flawlessly as he wove the tale with his words. He described how he had blasted the vampire with a fire charm, burning it but not dusting it, before it ran off into the forest.

"Thank you for the information, Mr. Riddle. I will inform the headmaster promptly and we will make sure the security at the school is updated," Dumbledore said. "Now, would you please leave me and Miss Summers for a moment? I'd like to speak to her alone before sending her off to her dormitory."

"Of course, headmaster," Tom said, getting up from his seat and leaving the office, shutting the door behind him. Dumbledore waited several long minutes before speaking again, his attention fully on Buffy.

"Now, please tell me what really happened," Dumbledore said gently, steepling his fingers underneath his chin.

"How did you know Tom wasn't telling the truth?" Buffy asked, arching an eyebrow.

"I just want to make sure we have the story straight before I go to Headmaster Dippet," Dumbledore replied.

"Would you be angry if I told you Tom was lying?" Buffy asked.

"More disappointed than angry, although I'm really not surprised. Tom seems to think I don't trust him," Dumbledore replied. "Now, what is the real story? I would hardly expect a Vampire Slayer such as yourself to stand by as an innocent bystander jumps into the fray, even if that innocent bystander just so happened to be a wizard."

So Buffy told her story, from encountering Drusilla to her running off when she heard Spikes voice. Buffy was quite certain it was Spike; it wouldn't have been Angel, because if she remembered correctly, Angel was already in the United States. Besides, he had a soul and wouldn't have been hanging around Drusilla and Spike anyway.

"But what I really thought was weird, was that Drusilla didn't seem to recognize me," Buffy said. "I mean, if she encountered me in her past, wouldn't it be possible that she would say something?"

"Well, I have a few ideas on that," Dumbledore said. "One, she didn't recognize you when she met you in your time, and therefore she wouldn't have made that connection in your time. Two, so much time and so many events have passed by between this meeting and the next that she forgot all about you. And finally, this is the beginning of an entirely new time loop and you've started a parallel timeline. Between you and I, I sincerely hope that it's one of the first two scenarios. Parallel timelines have a tendency to get complicated and messy."

"I kind of hope so, too," Buffy replied. "Was there anything else you wanted to speak to me about?"

"No, you're free to go," Dumbledore said. "Will you be able to make your way back to your own common room, or do you need me to escort you?"

"The entrance is on this floor, right?" Buffy asked. Dumbledore nodded at her with a reassuring smile. "Then I should be all right. My sense of direction isn't that bad."

"Well then, I bid you good night," Dumbledore said, his smile widening slightly. "I'll see you bright an early tomorrow morning in Transfiguration with your fellow Gryffindors. Until then, good night."

"'Night, Professor," Buffy replied with a smile as she got up and left the office. She looked both ways down the corridor before stepping out of the office when she didn't see Tom loitering about. She caught sight of the Fat Lady's portrait from Dumbledore's office door, and she quickly made her way down the corridor towards the painting. She whispered the password to the portrait, causing it to swing open. She had expected the common room to be empty, but sitting in front of the fire were Minerva, August, Terrence and Quentin.

"You're alive!" Terrence exclaimed, grinning when he saw her. His smile fell when he saw that she was a little worse for wear. "What happened to you?"

"Detention in the Forbidden Forest," Buffy replied.

"Was it really that horrible?" Augusta asked.

"Not too bad, I've had worse at my old school," Buffy replied. She didn't reveal that most of the ordeals she had gone through in Sunnydale mostly had nothing to do with her detentions from Snyder. They didn't need to know that, hopefully they never would.

"But you're hurt," Quentin remarked, gesturing towards Buffy's forehead. "What happened, and shouldn't you go to the hospital wing?"

"Got a branch to the face while moke hunting," Buffy replied. "It's just a cut, no big deal. I'll wash it before I go to bed and it'll heal up on it's own."

"Well, all right," Quentin said.

"We're all just glad you're all right, Buffy," Minerva piped up. "Ramsay is known for his horrendous detentions."

"It was no big, I'm here and I survived to fight another day," Buffy replied. She began to feel weary; it had been a long, long day. She fought off a yawn, not wanting to appear rude but feeling like a comfortable bed would be heaven at the moment. "I'm really sorry I can't stay up and talk, but I'm about ready to fall over. All right with you guys if I head on off to bed?"

"It's fine with us, we were only staying up to make sure you came back in one piece," Terrence said with a grin, cowering when August smacked him on the arm.

"Okay, well, good night," Buffy said with a smile and a wave, heading towards the girl's staircase.

"Night, Buffy," the Gryffindor quartet on the couches chorused, waving back.

***

So, here's chapter 10. As usual, feedback is awesome and it's something that keeps me going.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

The next morning Buffy woke somewhat refreshed, if a little sore. It was still early and her room mates were still asleep, which she was very thankful for. Grabbing her clothes and toiletries from her trunk, Buffy headed to the bathroom on the other side of the room, closing and locking the door behind her.

Examining herself in the mirror, Buffy grimaced when she saw what was there. There were a couple of bruises on her face as well as that cut that was well on its way to healing. Her injuries would have been much worse had she been a normal human, but at the rate her healing was going she would be completely healed by the next morning, if it took that long. She wondered how she was going to explain her fast healing to anyone who asked, but decided to deal with it when people asked about it, if they ever did.

She got dressed quickly and put on her make-up before surveying her face in the mirror again. Satisfied, she left the bathroom, tossing her toiletry bag into her trunk and leaving her pyjamas on her unmade bed before grabbing her book bag and heading downstairs. Her room mates were just beginning to stir as she left, and she idly wondered if they would be downstairs in time for breakfast.

"You're up early," Quentin remarked from his spot in front of the fire. She looked at him; he was seated in almost the exact same spot he had been in last night.

"Did you even go to bed last night?" Buffy asked, arching an eyebrow as she sat down next to him.

"Of course I did," Quentin replied with a sniff. "This is my usual seat, that's all."

"I see," Buffy said. "So, what's on tap today?"

"Pardon?" Quentin asked, confused.

"What classes do you have today?" Buffy asked, mentally sighing and rolling her eyes. It sucked when people didn't understand you, even though you were speaking the exact same language.

"Transfiguration and Defence Against the Dark Arts in the morning," Quentin replied. "I'm pretty sure you've got the same thing. Double Herbology in the afternoon. How about you?"

"Same here," Buffy replied after digging her schedule out of her bag and studying it. "Looks like you're stuck with me all day today."

"It'll be a pleasure," Quentin replied with a smile.

"You won't be saying that once you realize you have to explain everything to me ten times for me to get it," Buffy said with a self depreciating smile.

"I doubt it'll be ten," Quentin reassured her. "It'll be five at the most."

"Your lack of faith is disturbing," Buffy quoted. Quentin just looked at her strangely, and Buffy mentally smacked herself. Of course no one in this time would know Star Wars quotes. She wasn't even sure George Lucas was even born yet. Quickly, she scrambled for a reason why she had said what she said. "Uh, personal joke between me and my friends back home. Usually got them to crack up."

"You'll have to tell me the story sometime," Quentin said as he got up from the sofa. He held out his hand to help Buffy to her feet, which she gladly took. "But first, breakfast! A mind cannot function if it is not nourished."

"Is food the only thing you boys think about?" Buffy asked. "I swear, that's the only thing Xander really thought about. Well, food and girls."

"Who is this Xander fellow?" Quentin asked, curious, as they crossed the common room and headed out into the corridor. "Is he your boyfriend?"

"Oh no. No, no, no," Buffy replied vehemently. "He's just a friend. A very good friend, but just a friend. It's always been me, Willow and Xander, since I moved to Sunnydale a couple of years ago."

"You miss them, don't you?" Quentin asked.

"You asked me that yesterday, my answer hasn't changed since then," Buffy replied sadly.

"Why don't you send them an owl post? Let them know you're thinking of them?" Quentin suggested.

"Wish I could, but they live in the mystical convergence like I did, and magical means of communication can't get through, including owls," Buffy replied. _Not to mention they haven't been born yet_, Buffy added silently. _But he doesn't need to know that. Not now, not ever._

"There's something you're not telling me," Quentin said, narrowing his eyes. "I'm not going to push you about it, not now, but I'll find out what's going on. It's my new goal."

"You're right, there is something I'm not telling you," Buffy replied. "But I'm not ready to talk about it and I would really appreciate it if you didn't mention it again."

"Deal," Quentin said. "For now, anyway."

"That's all I ask," Buffy replied, fighting the urge to sigh. She was beginning to trust Quentin and consider him a friend, even though she had only known him for a few days. However, she wasn't sure if she'd be able to tell him about everything. Not yet. She just hoped that when the time came, he wouldn't run screaming and saying she was nuttier than squirrel poo.

The rest of the walk to the Great Hall was in silence, and the room was about half full when they entered. Buffy scanned the room, looking for a certain familiar face. Not seeing him at the Slytherin table, she let out an unconscious sigh of relief before following Quentin to the Gryffindor table. She sat down and grabbed an apple and a muffin, placing them on a plate before pouring herself a glass of orange juice.

"No huge breakfast this morning?" Quentin asked, curious.

"Not that hungry," Buffy replied with a shrug. The Slayer metabolism was a funny thing; she could eat as much as she wanted and not get fat, but the real reality was that she didn't actually need a lot to eat to keep herself in tip-top condition. Obviously, when she was actively slaying she needed more to eat, but for the most part she could easily subsist on three small meals a day and be completely fine.

Buffy was saved from further questioning by the arrival of Terrence, August and Minerva, coming in all smiles and laughter.

"Good morning everyone!" August said cheerily as she sat across from Buffy. Minerva sat on the other side of Buffy and Terrence sat across the table, next to August.

"You're looking much better, Buffy," Terrence said, looking Buffy over with a critical eye. "That cut looks like it's almost healed."

"Told you I'd be fine," Buffy replied as she took a bite of her apple. She heard a rustling overhead, and looked up to see owls of every size, shape and color flapping overhead, packages and letters tied to their legs, each and every one of them looking for their intended targets. She was surprised when one owl broke away from the swarm and swooped down towards her, a letter tied to its leg.

"Looks like you've got owl post, Buffy," Minerva commented. "Who would be writing to you?"

"No idea," Buffy replied as the owl landed in front of her, sticking out the leg with the letter attached. After Buffy had taken the letter off of the owl's leg, it dunked its beak into her orange juice and nicked a piece of her muffin before spreading its wings and flying away. Curious, Buffy grabbed a clean butter knife and slit open the envelope, taking out the thick piece of parchment paper inside. Written on it was a simple note in elegant cursive.

_Miss Summers,_

_Professor Slughorn has allowed us the use of one of his Potions labs tonight to begin your tutoring. Please meet me in the dungeons after dinner at 7:30 p.m. Bring your potions kit._

_Yours,_

_Tom Riddle._

"This is gonna be fun," Buffy muttered, folding the note and placing it carefully into her bag. She looked up to see her four newest friends staring at her. "What?"

"What's the letter say?" Terrence asked, only to be glared at by August.

"Being a little nosey, aren't you?" she asked, eyes narrowing. "It's none of your business what Buffy's owl post was. Right Buffy?"

"It's not a sordid love poem or anything," Buffy replied with a shrug. "Just letting me know when my tutoring session starts tonight."

"Which one?" Minerva asked, curious. To her knowledge, none of the Gryffindors had set up tutoring sessions with Buffy; she certainly hadn't.

"Potions," Buffy replied, wrinkling her nose before taking a bite of her apple. She wasn't going to touch her muffin again, considering that an owl had just snacked on it, and she wasn't going to touch her juice again either.

"We didn't set up a tutor for you for that one," August remarked. "Did we?"

"No, Slughorn did," Buffy replied.

"Who'd he stick you with?" Terrence asked. "If you don't mind me asking, that is."

"Tom Riddle," Buffy replied.

"Figures," Terrence said with a scowl. "A dirty rotten snake would, of course, pick another dirty rotten snake over another house. Maybe we could petition to have someone else tutor Buffy. Hey Min, are there any Gryffindors who are good at potions?"

"Unfortunately, no," Minerva replied, wrinkling her nose. "At least, not anyone who can also teach."

"Ravenclaws?" Terrence suggested. Minerva shook her head "no". "Okay I know there can't be any Hufflepuffs good enough at Potions. What are we going to do?"

"What's the problem?" Buffy asked, curious. She'd heard a little bit about the houses from Minerva on the first day she was allowed to talk to people, but she still couldn't see anything wrong with Tom being her tutor. Well, except for the fact that he seemed to take on some creepy stalker-like qualities.

"Slytherins and Gryffindors aren't supposed to mix," Terrence replied matter-of-factly. "It's a Hogwarts fact of life. Besides, Riddle's evil."

"How do you know?" Buffy asked. While her Slayer sense buzzed a little when Tom was around, she didn't get the whole "he is evil, you must slay him now" vibe. Then again, Hogwarts in its entirety sent her senses buzzing.

"All Slytherins are evil," Terrence replied quickly.

"That's like saying all blondes are dumb and all people who wear glasses are smart," Buffy shot back. "Kind of a gross generalization, isn't it?"

"Slytherins have always been evil, though," Terrence argued. "Ever since Salazar himself helped found Hogwarts nearly a thousand years ago, the evil ones go to Slytherin. They'll do anything to get ahead; lie, cheat, steal, backstab. Do you really want someone like that tutoring you? He'll probably tell you how to do everything wrong in the off chance that you could end up being better than him."

"And how will that make him look?" Buffy asked, curious. "Won't that make him look bad because he can't teach dumb person potions to, well, a dumb person?"

"He's a Slytherin," Terrence replied. "He'll find a way to twist it so that he looks like a prodigy and you look like a slack-jawed yokel that just fell off the turnip truck."

"I'll burn that bridge when I get to it," Buffy said. "If worst comes to worse, I'll muddle through on my own and have a couple of you guys help me out. You said you're not the best, but you're still better than I'd be on my own, right?"

"You know, for a girl and a blonde you're sounding quite reasonable and smart," Terrence remarked, only to find himself smacked hard across the back of the head. "Ow, what was that for?"

"Do you really need me to answer that question?" August asked, glaring at him.

"No, I suppose not," Terrence replied, rubbing the back of his head with a grimace. Buffy glanced up at the staff table, wondering if their discussions and actions had garnered the attention of some of the faculty. The Great Hall was still rather unpopulated, so their antics would have garnered some attention, had anyone been paying any attention to them. Thankfully, no one from the faculty table was looking in their direction, not even Dumbledore. However, Buffy could still feel a pair of eyes on her, and she wasn't entirely surprised when her eyes locked onto Tom's dark ones. He smirked at her, amused, raising his glass of pumpkin juice to her before turning his attention back to his friends.

"Freakin' stalker," Buffy muttered under her breath, grabbing another muffin from the tray in front of her.

"What was that?" Quentin asked, curious.

"Nothing, just talking to myself," Buffy replied, taking a bite out of her new muffin, chewing it with a thoughtful expression on her face.

"If you keep that up, people will start thinking you're barmy or something," Quentin advised her sagely.

"You're only crazy if you start answering yourself," Buffy shot back with a smirk.

"I suppose that could be considered true," Quentin said thoughtfully. "Just… don't let anyone else catch you muttering to yourself. People might start thinking you're nuts or something."

"Been there, done that," Buffy said with a scoff, causing Quentin to look at her curiously as she took another bite of her muffin. It was good, one of the best bran muffins she'd had in a while, even though it probably would have been better with some blueberries or something in it. Oh well, there wasn't much she could do about it. She saw Quentin looking at her strangely. "What?"

"You're quite strange, you know," Quentin remarked with a wry smile. "I kind of like it."

"Huh, it usually takes people at least a month before they figure out I'm strange. Go you," Buffy remarked before she felt a few more pairs of eyes on her. She averted her attention from Quentin only to see August, Terrence and Minerva looking at her curiously. "What?"

"You're one strange bird, Buffy," Terrence replied. "Life's definitely going to be interesting with you around."

"You've just figured that out?" Buffy asked with a smile. _You have no idea how interesting things are going to get if you all find out my secrets_, Buffy thought. Their lives were probably interesting enough, what with going to school for magic and everything, and they didn't really need to know about her Slayer side. She hoped they wouldn't find out, and she hoped that Tom hadn't told anyone. Seeing as no one was giving her odd looks or anything like that, she assumed that he had stuck with the cover story he had come up with, if he had told anyone at all.

"Uh, Buffy?" Quentin asked.

"Yeah?" Buffy replied, taking yet another bite out of her muffin.

"We should probably head to class soon. Professor Dumbledore might be our Head of House, but he'll probably still give us detention if we're tardy," Quentin said, getting up and gathering his bag from the floor. "Nothing as horrendous as Ramsay would dole out, but not something you'd want anyway."

"You'd better not get another detention," Minerva said seriously, although the corners of her mouth were twitching and Buffy could see an amused sparkle in her eye. "You still have to start your tutoring in your other classes; it's obvious you need help with a multitude of subjects. After your tutoring session with Riddle, we should meet and set up a study schedule that everyone can stick to. Sound fair?"

"Doesn't look like I have much of a choice even if I didn't," Buffy joked, earning her a stern glare from Minerva. "Sorry."

"Min's great fun, until you poke fun at her studying and schedules," Terrence said with a grin. "You'll get used to it quickly, because heaven help you if you don't."

"August, could you smack him for me please?" Minerva asked mildly. Smiling and nodding, August reached out and took a swipe at the back of Terrence's head, only to miss as he ducked out of the way. He smirked smugly, until he was hit in the face with a grape.

"Hey!" he exclaimed, glaring at Buffy, who was trying very hard not to laugh.

"Thank you for that, Buffy," Minerva said with a snort as Terrence grumbled something underneath his breath.

"Like you'd be able to do that again," Terrence said, sticking his tongue out at her. Again, Buffy took aim and he was hit in the face with another grape. He turned and glowered at Buffy, although the expression did nothing to faze her. "Well, that was a really easy shot. It's not like you could shoot a quaffle into a hoop from fifty feet away or something like that."

"Oh no, he's started on the Quidditch talk," August said with a groan. "And here I thought he was taking a hiatus or something. Guessing it was way too good to be true."

"Hey, I can't help it if there was something more interesting to talk about than Quidditch around here for the past few days," Terrence replied waggling his eyebrows at Buffy before turning serious again. "Now that that little rumour mill has died down, I gotta catch up somehow."

"Except that there hasn't been any professional Quidditch in ages," Minerva replied with a sniff. "It's too dangerous, what with the war and all. Even with protection spells, it's far too risky to have so many people gathered in one area."

"But there's still the school games," Terrence retorted. "Ravenclaw and Gryffindor match in a little over a month, if I remember correctly."

"I'm sorry, but what's Quidditch?" Buffy asked, feeling lost.

"Oh, I've forgotten, you grew up Muggle," Terrence said absently. "Quidditch is a wizarding sport, played up in the air on flying broomsticks. It can get really complicated and I don't have the time to explain it, but it's wicked and great fun to watch. Each house has its own team; all of the teams have been picked for this year, but there's a reserve spot on the Gryffindor team if you're interested in trying out."

"Sports and Buffy are non-mixy things," Buffy replied, shaking her head. "I'm more than happy to just be a cheerleader."

"And I hate to say this, but you probably wouldn't get a lot of time to play anyway," Minerva replied, wrinkling her nose. "I'm one of the reserve seekers on the team, and they always choose the little third year boy to go in before me, even though I'm a superior flier and have a lot more experience. I just hope I'll be able to get a spot on the Holyhead Harpies when school's finished."

"Are they a good team?" Buffy asked, trying to keep up with the conversation.

"Well, they only hire witches," Minerva replied with a shrug. "If I can get on that team, it might be my only opportunity to play professional Quidditch."

"I don't think you will play Quidditch," Terrence said.

"And why's that? Do you think I'm not good enough to play professionally?" Minerva asked coolly, narrowing her eyes at him.

"No, no, no, it's not that at all," Terrence replied. "I think you're smashing on the pitch, but I don't think that's where you real passion lies, and you won't find complete happiness playing Quidditch."

"And where, exactly, does my real passion lie?" Minerva asked icily, her eyes still narrowed.

"Promise not to hit me? Or have anyone else hit me?" Terrence asked, cowering a little. Minerva was still for a moment, before nodding once. "Teaching."

"Teaching?" Minerva asked, her eyes widening.

"Come on Buffy, let's get a move-on," Quentin said, tugging on her sleeve slightly to get her attention. "We've still got a bit of a hike before we actually get to Transfiguration, and Dumbledore's already left the staff table."

"Okay, fine," Buffy replied with a sigh, although all she really wanted to do was sit and listen to Minerva and Terrence's conversation. It had the sound of an old argument, one that was just getting interesting.

"We'll see you at lunch, okay?" August said as the two sixth years got up and gathered their things. Quentin and Buffy both nodded at her before leaving the Great Hall, along with several others who had classes in far off corners of the castle.

"That sounds like it could get interesting," Buffy said when they were out of earshot of the seventh years.

"You're telling me," Quentin said with a sigh. "Although it's gotten less violent over the years. There's very little hair pulling or slap fights now."

"Please tell me you're joking," Buffy said as they started up the stairs. Halfway up, the stairway started to move, causing Buffy to go off balance. If Quentin hadn't been there to catch her arm, she probably would have fallen. "Thanks. I don't think I'll ever get used to that."

"I'm sure you will, it didn't take me that long before I stopped falling and stumbling every single time the stairs moved. Then again, I got really good at predicting when the stairs would move, and avoided using them during those times," Quentin replied with a shrug. "And I wish I were kidding. They've mellowed over the years, but it can still get heated. Once they start arguing about Quidditch in general, it's usually a good idea to stand back and watch the sparks fly from a distance. I don't envy August, being stuck in between her best friend and her boyfriend."

"Sounds entertaining," Buffy remarked as they finally reached the seventh floor. "So, Transfiguration is transforming one thing into another, right?"

"Yes, that's about right, although it's a lot harder than it sounds," Quentin replied as they rounded the corner to the Transfiguration corridor. "Some people say it's the most difficult of the magical arts because there's so much that could go wrong."

"And what do you think?" Buffy asked, following Quentin into the Transfiguration classroom. About half of the class was there, mostly dressed in blue and gold. Ravenclaws, the smart ones, Buffy reminded herself as she sat down next to Quentin at his table. The other students were looking at her and trying to make it seem like they weren't which made it more obvious that they were, in fact, looking at her. While she had been used to being the centre of attention while attending Hemery High in Los Angeles, a year and a half in Sunnydale had her used to being in the background, and all of the attention was making her feel uncomfortable.

"I think transfiguration is interesting and a challenge," Quentin replied with a shrug before smiling cheekily. "If you want someone to wax poetic about it, talk to Minerva."

Buffy smiled and was about to say something when a voice behind her got her attention. She cringed, hoping that she would have been able to avoid the owner of the voice for at least a day.

"Hi Buffy!" Ursula said, bounding over to where Buffy was sitting, her nose crinkling in disgust when she saw who Buffy was sitting with. "What are you doing sitting next to _him_? He's such a creep!"

"He's also been the only person in our year who's been really nice to me," Buffy replied with a shrug before turning away to rummage around in her bag for her Transfiguration textbook and wand.

"I've been nice to you!" Ursula argued. "I let you sit with me and Felicia during Divination yesterday!"

"Obviously your definition of nice and mine are kinda different," Buffy retorted. "Although I'll agree that you did let me sit with you during class yesterday, and while that was nice, you also told my guide that I would be okay on my own finding my way through the castle on my first full day of classes, when I had no idea where I was going or what I was doing. That doesn't sound nice, now does it?"

"I didn't want Quentin to be late," Ursula defended herself with a huff. Buffy narrowed her eyes, wondering if Ursula was telling the truth.

"I wouldn't have minded," Quentin replied with a shrug. "At least she might have had some good company during detention last night if we'd been late together."

"You got detention last night?" Ursula asked.

"Yeah, because Ramsay didn't like the fact that Quentin and I were discussing and trying to figure out why he had left me hanging after class," Buffy replied. While that wasn't entirely true, they had talked about why he had run off, although it had ultimately been her remark about Ramsay's grouchiness that had been the straw that broke the camel's back.

"Oh, well then," Ursula said, floundering a little before gaining her bearings again. "But do you really want to sit with this loser, seriously?"

"Not seeing a loser here," Buffy replied. "At least, not a male loser."

Ursula stood there for a moment, silent, before an indignant noise issued from her mouth. With a huff, she turned and stomped across the room before flopping down gracelessly in her seat. She glared at everyone who was looking at her, but didn't speak because at that moment Dumbledore entered the room, his eyes sparkling and a half smile on his lips.

"Good morning, class," he greeted, his voice quiet.

"Good morning, Professor Dumbledore," the class greeted in unison. Dumbledore surveyed his class silently for a moment, his clear blue eyes scanning the room. They lingered on Buffy for a moment before returning to the centre.

"Now then, I'm glad to see everyone is alert and ready to learn," he said pleasantly, his voice still a normal tone. He had a special talent; he was able to keep a classroom silent without raising his voice. It was a talent that few people had, and he had it in spades.

"Today we will be continuing our lessons on human transfiguration, something that undoubtedly come up on your NEWTs next year," he continued. "Well, most of you will. I would like you to please read the next section on transfiguring humans into similarly sized objects or animals. We may be attempting some partial transfiguration next week, depending on how well you focus today. Miss Summers, would you please meet me at the desk at the back? I have something different in mind for you."

She glanced over at Quentin, who smiled reassuringly at her before turning back to his book. Gulping nervously, Buffy got up from her seat and walked to the desk at the back of the room, meeting Dumbledore there.

"What did you have in mind, Professor?" Buffy asked, curious.

"Since I know you haven't had much of a chance to start your tutoring, I thought you might appreciate some extra help with the basics," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling. Buffy ducked her head in embarrassment, which caused the professor to smile. "It's all right, my dear. But, back to business here. Since you're relatively inexperienced with magic, I would like you to try something a little simpler to start off with. Once you get the basics of Transfiguration you can join your classmates in their work, but I would like to make sure you have a solid foundation before you do anything involving humans or other live subjects."

"Sounds fair," Buffy said with a nod.

"I'm glad you think so," Dumbledore replied. He gestured to the box of matches on the desk. "I would like you to try and transfigure these matches into sewing needles. It's the first bit of transfiguration the first years do. If you have any questions, please do not hesitate to come and ask me."

"Um, Professor?" Buffy asked.

"Yes, Miss Summers?" Dumbledore responded.

"How do I do it?" she asked, confused.

"The explanation is simple, but the task is difficult," Dumbledore replied. "You must point your wand at the object you wish transfigured and concentrate on the task. Envision the match transforming into a needle. Keep your mind clear and concentrate only on the match turning into a needle. Don't get too discouraged if you can't get it right away; I'm certain that Ms McGonagall will be able to get you up to snuff once you begin your tutoring with her."

"Thank you," Buffy said gratefully. Although the information helped somewhat, she wasn't quite sure how she would be able to utilize it. All she could really do was what Dumbledore had told her to, and hope for the best. She just hoped that this would work out better than her Charms class the day before.

She took one of the matches and placed it in the middle of the desk. Closing her eyes, Buffy pointed her wand at the matchstick and concentrated on making it change into a needle. She envisioned the matchstick in her mind and imagined it morphing into a needle. After a few moments of concentrating, she peeked to see if she'd made any progress.

"I think you may have an affinity for transfiguration," Dumbledore said from behind her, startling her. She turned to find him smiling down at her, something akin to pride shining in his eyes. "Look at your progress, Miss Summers. I'm sure you'll be surprised."

Buffy turned back to the desk and picked up the matchstick to examine it. To her surprise, it was shiny and pointy, although it didn't have an eye yet. She turned to Dumbledore, who was smiling softly at her.

"I think you might have a talent for Transfiguration, Miss Summers," Dumbledore said before walking off, checking up on the other students before returning to his desk at the front of the room. Buffy stared at the pseudo-needle, examining it. She was curious, wondering if she could finish the job by the end of the lesson.

Buffy spent the rest of the class concentrating on her almost-needle, trying to give it an eye. Before long, Professor Dumbledore was calling an end to the class as he came to the back table to see how Buffy was doing. He picked the needle up from the wooden surface and examined it again.

"Yes, Miss Summers, I'm certain Miss McGonagall will have you up to scratch in no time," he said with a smile. "Soon you'll be able to do a dozen or more of these a class, although I'm hoping to get you onto something a little more difficult next lesson. You're dismissed, and have a good remainder of the week."

Smiling to herself, Buffy gathered her wand and her textbook, which she had taken out of her bag at the beginning of class and hadn't bothered putting it back when she moved, and put them back into her bag before hauling it onto her shoulder and joining her classmates as the clamoured at the door in an attempt to be the first to leave. Once she was out in the corridor, she craned her neck to find Quentin, as he was still her guide and she didn't know where her next class was.

"Buffy, over here!"

Buffy turned around to see Quentin standing right next to the door; she had walked right by him. Smiling apologetically, she turned and walked back to him, following him to their next class as soon as she reached him.

"Sorry, I totally zoned out there," Buffy said as they walked.

"That's okay, it happens to the best of us," Quentin replied with a smile. "Besides, you were concentrating pretty hard in there. That's bound to strain your mind and magic a bit, which can cause you to be disoriented."

"Oh shut up," Buffy said, nudging him on the arm as they walked. "So, what's the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher like?"

"It's his first year teaching, so we've only had him around for a couple of months," Quentin replied. "He seems to know his stuff though, so I'm not complaining. Defence is my best subject, so having a decent teacher is awesome. Not that the other teachers aren't decent, because they are. It's just that… this teacher really knows her stuff. Like she's actually experienced it, you know? I mean, she's pretty old, but she had to have had an interesting life if she knew and experienced all of this stuff."

"Really?" Buffy asked, a little surprised that this teacher was female. She was certain that this woman wasn't a Slayer, because Slayers died young, and Quentin said that this woman was old. Besides that, the Slayer was supposed to be a myth to the wizarding world. "What's her name?"

"Professor Edna Giles."

****

*pokes head out from behind a rock* Um, hi everyone! I'm SO SORRY that this didn't come out way sooner. I can't even blame writer's block, really, because I already know where this thing is going, and I even have a sequel half planned in my head already. Things just… happened. November/December got really hectic, I started a new job last month after getting my month's notice from my other job just before Christmas. My brain has been fried trying to unlearn how everything was done at my old job, and relearning how to everything at my new job.

I promise to get a new chapter out within a month this time, instead of four months like this one. I hope you enjoyed this one, and choose to review to let me know how much you liked it. Or, you know, to yell at me because I took so long. Any feedback is good feedback, right?

*hides behind rock again*


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Buffy blinked, unsure if she had heard Quentin properly. _Edna Giles? Maybe she's related to my Giles_, she thought.

"Hey Buffy, are you okay?" Quentin asked, waving a hand in front of her face to get her attention. "I didn't say anything to offend you, did I?"

"No, no, nothing like that," Buffy replied, shaking her head a little. "I was just wondering if she was related to a friend of mine, who also has the last name Giles. He's British, as well."

"It's entirely possible," Quentin replied with a shrug. "But then again, I think Giles might be a pretty common surname. You might be able to ask her, if you get on her good side."

"Maybe," Buffy said absently, her mind going a mile a minute as they walked.

For the first time, she wished that she had paid attention to what little she knew about Giles. Was he even old enough to have already been born? She was pretty sure that he was older than her mother, but she couldn't be certain. She didn't know much about his family, except that he came from a whole family of Watchers. Oh, and that he hadn't wanted to be a Watcher, but maybe a fighter pilot or a grocer.

"Buffy, do you need to go to the hospital wing?" Quentin asked curiously, breaking Buffy from her thoughts. "You've drifted off a couple of times today already. Are you sure you're all right?"

"Peachy, side of keen. No hospital wing for Buffy," Buffy reassured him, patting his arm and smiling brightly at him. "Now, let's get this class over with. Shall we?"

"We shall," Quentin agreed as he led them into the half full classroom. Buffy followed him to a table near the middle of the room. The professor was already at the front of the classroom, puttering around, and as Buffy took her seat she watched her, trying to see if Giles had picked up any of the woman's mannerisms.

Before long, the rest of the class had filed into the room. As Professor Giles turned to face the class to call it to order, her gaze fell on Buffy. Their eyes locked for a period of time that seemed to have dragged on longer than it should have. Yep, definitely related to Giles, Buffy thought, not breaking the eye contact. They have the same eyes. A flash of recognition crossed Professor Giles' face before she straightened and addressed the class as a whole.

"Good morning, class," she greeted, a small smile on her face. "Please turn to page two hundred and forty four, and we will begin the lesson there."

Buffy took out her textbook and flipped to the page as instructed. Vampires. Fanged, yellow eyed monsters with bumpy foreheads and a bit of a blood addiction vampires. _Oh crap,_ Buffy thought, glancing at the professor. The older woman didn't give anything away as she flipped through her notes.

"Ooh, goody, my favourite," Quentin said gleefully. Buffy turned her gaze to the person who was quickly becoming her closest friend at Hogwarts and saw that he was practically vibrating with excitement and his eyes were so bright they could be described as glowing.

"Now then, let's see who has done some extra reading, and who hasn't," Professor Giles began. "Miss Summers, can you please tell me some of the ways one might defeat a vampire?"

"Um, light it on fire with a spell?" Buffy suggested. Professor Giles looked at her and arched an eyebrow at her. As Quentin's hand flew into the air, Buffy blinked innocently, trying not to give away anything about what she really knew.

"That might work, although what would you do if you were deprived of your wand?" Professor Giles asked curiously.

"Run like the wind and hope that the vampire doesn't want to work for his dinner?" Buffy suggested hopefully. The rest of the class snickered. By this time, Quentin was practically jumping out of his seat, his hand flailing wildly in the air.

"Put your hand down, Mr. Trimble," Professor Giles said, smiling in such a way a grandmother would smile at a favourite grandchild. Quentin lowered his hand and slumped in his seat, sulking. "I already know you know the answer. The question is, does Miss Summers?"

"She wouldn't know the answer, Professor," Quentin said. "Buffy was born and raised in the muggle world and didn't know she was a witch until a few weeks ago."

"Is that so?" Professor Giles asked with an arched eyebrow. "How… unfortunate. I suppose that can't be helped, then. For the rest of the class, please read the chapter on vampires. If you have completed the reading, then please copy down the questions on the blackboard and begin answering them. They are due at the beginning of the next lesson, so if you get them done today you won't have any homework. You may discuss your answers with your partner, although if it gets too loud in here I will cast a silencing charm. Any questions, feel free to ask me."

The students got to work, either reading or writing; it wasn't long before the classroom was filled with the sounds of pages turning, quills scratching and the murmur of hushed conversation. Buffy started to read, although she needn't have bothered. It was mostly information that she had covered with Giles, although the chapter did go into some depth about some more notable vampires in history, in particular the Order of Aurelius, started by Joseph Nast, now known simply as The Master.

"Why would Professor Giles think you knew about vampires?" Quentin whispered as Buffy began copying down the questions.

"No clue," Buffy replied, examining the words on the paper. She had grabbed a bottle of purple ink that day. _Well, I suppose it's better than neon pink,_ she thought. She made a mental note to go through the bottles of ink that Dumbledore had given her, otherwise she might end up grabbing a bottle of invisible ink one of these days.

"She must know something about you that the rest of us don't," Quentin said, his eyes narrowing in suspicion at the professor.

"Or maybe she just likes picking on poor, uneducated Americans like me," Buffy joked. Quentin's eyes narrowed further in suspicion before he turned back to his work.

The rest of the lesson passed quietly and without incident, although Buffy got the feeling that she was being watched. it didn't take a rocked scientist to figure out who the culprit was. She shouldn't have been surprised that when the bell rang for lunch, Professor Giles called her back.

"Miss Summers, a word please?" she asked politely as the class gathered their things.

"Buffy, do you need me to wait around for you?" Quentin asked as he hoisted his bag onto his shoulder. "I promise I won't wander off this time."

"No, I'm fine," Buffy replied, waving him off. "I'll catch up."

With a smile and a jaunty wave, Quentin turned and left the classroom, the last student to leave besides Buffy.

Professor Giles stood perfectly still until she was certain that the last of her students had left the immediate vicinity. With a wave of her wand, the classroom door closed with a click, and after a muttered spell the room was eerily quiet, no sounds from the corridor permeating the thick stone walls.

"You know, I never thought I'd see one at Hogwarts," Professor Giles said thoughtfully as she approached Buffy. "Potentials who are also witches are usually stricken from all records when they are taken by the Watcher's Council. My question is, what are you doing here? And where is your Watcher?"

"What are you talking about?" Buffy asked, feigning ignorance. She just hoped it worked. "You sound crazy, Professor."

"I'm talking about the Slayer," Professor Giles replied. "You are the Slayer, aren't you? If you are, what are you doing here? The One Girl in All the World isn't really doing her duty if she is holed up in a castle day and night, now is she?"

"Didn't anyone tell you?" Buffy asked. "The Slayer is a myth. Something to comfort the kiddies in the night when they're scared of the boogeyman under the bed."

"That's what the Council wants the wizarding world to think," Professor Giles retorted. "The Slayer is meant to protect the mundane humans, the ones that don't know about what goes on after the dark. Wizards and witches have magic, they can handle themselves just fine."

"How can you be sure I'm her?" Buffy asked, genuinely curious. She'd always wanted to know how both Merrick and Giles had known she was the Slayer when they first saw her, but had never thought to ask. She might get an answer now. "Assuming I believe you, of course."

"A Watcher, especially one that comes from a long line of Watchers, always knows when the Slayer is about," Professor Giles replied. "Being a Watcher is like being a Slayer – a calling that cannot be denied. The Slayer and the Watcher's Council have been intertwined from the beginning, and they will never be parted. Now, you have not answered my questions. What are you doing here? And where is your Watcher?"

"Professors Dippet and Dumbledore both know I'm here and what I am," Buffy replied. "At least, they know what I think I am. The question I have is, why didn't they tell you? Don't they know you were a Watcher?"

"How did you know I was a Watcher?" Professor Giles asked.

"You practically admitted it," Buffy replied. "You said a Watcher always knows when a Slayer is about, and you knew what I was as soon as you saw me."

"So, you do admit that you're the Slayer," Professor Giles stated. Buffy sighed and nodded once in confirmation. "I must contact the Watcher's Council immediately. They must know of your whereabouts so that they can place you where you are needed most."

"You shouldn't do that," Buffy said as Professor Giles headed to the fireplace behind the desk.

"And why should I do what a student suggests?" she asked, arching an eyebrow.

"I don't know if I'm allowed to tell you," Buffy replied uncertainly. "It might be a good idea if we spoke to Dumbledore about this first."

"Why Professor Dumbledore and not Professor Dippet?" Professor Giles asked suspiciously.

"Because Professor Dumbledore seemed much more receptive of the fact that the Slayer is real and not just a fairy tale," Buffy replied with a shrug. "But if you wanna talk to Dippet and have him think we're both nuts, then by all means, talk to Dippet."

"I suppose it doesn't really matter who we talk to, as they seem to be pretty even partners in running this school," Professor Giles said with a sigh. "Come along, let's see if Professor Dumbledore is in his office."

"Bye bye lunch," Buffy muttered as she followed Professor Giles out of the classroom.

"You're a Slayer, you can easily function on one meal a day," she said with a scoff as she led them out of the classroom.

"Doesn't mean I like missing meals," Buffy grumbled, closing the classroom door behind her.

It was a long and silent walk to Dumbledore's office a couple of floors up. The few students who saw them gave them curious glances, but no one stopped them. Professor Giles knocked crisply on the door and stood back and waited. Buffy could hear movement from inside and it was mere moments before the door was pulled open.

"Professor Giles, Miss Summers, what a pleasant surprise," he said, his eyes twinkling. "Please, come in."

Professor Giles pushed past Dumbledore and hurried into the office, Buffy following closely behind. She smiled apologetically at the older professor as he closed his office door and sat back down behind his desk.

"What brings you here this afternoon?" Dumbledore asked, his eyes still twinkling merrily. Buffy was almost certain that he already knew why they were there.

"Did you know that Miss Summers here is the Vampire Slayer?" Professor Giles asked.

"I believe Miss Summers mentioned that when she arrived, yes," Dumbledore replied. "I, in turn, informed her that the Slayer is a myth in this world and that by all accounts, she should not exist."

"Then you should also know that I am a former Watcher of the Watcher's Council," Professor Giles continued. "You do know what a Watcher does, don't you?"

"I believe, from what I have read, the Watcher trains and guides the Slayer, correct?" Dumbledore asked. Professor Giles nodded in confirmation and Dumbledore looked thoughtful for a moment. Buffy wasn't sure if she liked where this conversation was going. She didn't want to leave the school. It was familiar, she was making friends, and these people would be the ones that would be able to help her get home, if it was even possible to do so. "I see. I don't, however, see how this is relevant to anything, Professor Giles."

"We need to contact the Watcher's Council at once!" Professor Giles exclaimed, pink splotches forming on her cheeks. She was a lot different from her own Giles; he always seemed cool, calm and collected. This woman, at that moment, seemed anything but. "The Slayer can't be here at Hogwarts when she is most definitely needed elsewhere. Can't you see that, Professor Dumbledore?"

"I think that, if you were to contact your Watcher's Council, they would tell you that the Slayer is right where she is supposed to be, and they would never have heard of Miss Summers," Dumbledore replied.

"I don't understand," Professor Giles said, deflating a bit. Curiosity crossed her features, and Buffy was certain that her secret was going to be less of a secret before they left the office.

"And you shan't understand fully, unless Miss Summers gives her consent," Dumbledore replied, his gaze fixing on Buffy. "Do you want Professor Giles to know your secret?"

"Seriously, what happened to Secret Identity Girl?" Buffy asked with a huff, crossing her arms across her chest. "Fine, if it means that I get to stick around her a little while longer, Professor Giles can know. But I'm not going to be happy about it."

"I didn't suspect you would be," Dumbledore replied, the twinkle all but gone from his eye. "Professor Giles, what I am about to tell you is not to leave this room. I don't think I need to tell you what may happen to you if you do tell someone about this. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Professor Dumbledore," Professor Giles confirmed with a decisive nod.

"Miss Summers is not from this time," Dumbledore said. _Way to ease into it,_ Buffy thought, trying not to laugh at the expression on Professor Giles' face. A fish out of water would have been an apt description.

"But… but… but that's impossible!" Professor Giles sputtered. "Time travel is immensely unstable. Just how far into the future did she come from?"

"And yet it is not," Dumbledore countered mildly. "As for how many years she travelled back, that I am not at liberty to say. That is something that only Miss Summers has the authority to reveal, although I encourage her not to. Things will unfold as they have unfolded in Miss Summers' past, our future, and nothing we do now can change it."

"How do you know she's telling the truth?" Professor Giles asked.

"_She_ is sitting right here," Buffy grumbled.

"Do you honestly think that someone would make up such an intricate lie?" Dumbledore asked. "It would be far too difficult to keep up, unless it was the truth."

"I suppose so," Professor Giles said with a sigh. "What kind of cover story are you using? Something to explain why you have no contact with your family and friends at home?"

"I was born on a mystical convergence and both muggle and magical means of communication can't get to me here," Buffy replied. "It seems to be working so far."

"And what do you plan to do when people begin to realize that you're lying through your teeth?" Professor Giles asked.

"I've only been going to classes for two days. I'll burn that bridge when I get to it," Buffy replied with a shrug. "Can I go now? I want to see if I can snag some lunch before Herbology."

"Yes, I think we're done here for now," Dumbledore said, dismissing her with a wave. "Have a good afternoon, Miss Summers."

"I'm expecting a perfect score on the questions I set for homework, Miss Summers," Professor Giles added.

Buffy got up from the chair in front of Dumbledore's desk, leaving the office as quickly as she could without actually running. She was not particularly happy with the fact that someone else knew about her "secret identity" now; she was really trying to keep it a secret this time around. She just hoped that her new friends didn't find out about what she was and where she was from.

She headed towards the Great Hall, hoping that she had enough time to grab a bite to eat before heading to her next class, although she doubted that would be the case. She knew her Herbology class would take place outside in one of the greenhouses, and she hoped that she would run into Quentin on her way out so that she wouldn't be wandering around the chilly grounds all by her lonesome. Not her idea of fun in the slightest.

Finally reaching the Great Hall, Buffy sighed to herself when she saw that a lot of the students were leaving. She resigned herself to skipping lunch and having to wait until dinner, which wasn't a huge loss because she was a Slayer and could easily survive on one meal a day, although as she had said, she didn't like skipping meals. It meant far fewer questions if she made an appearance at all meals and made it look like she ate.

"Buffy! Hey, Buffy!"

Smiling, Buffy turned at the sound of the familiar voice hailing her. Quentin's stride quickened to a jog as he made an attempt to close the distance between them quicker.

"Here, I saved you a sandwich because I wasn't sure if you were going to make it to lunch on time," he said, a little breathless, as he handed her a sandwich wrapped in a napkin. "I got one of the safe ones. Ham and cheese."

"Thank you!" Buffy said happily, taking the proffered sandwich and unwrapping it as they started walking again, heading for the Entrance Hall. "And here I was, thinking I'd have to go without lunch. You're the best."

"Well, I couldn't just let you starve, now could I?" Quentin replied with a smile. "So, what did Professor Giles want? Nothing too horrible, seeing you survived and all."

"She thought I was lying about my lack of knowledge in class," Buffy replied with a shrug, hoping he'd buy her story. "She seemed to think that no one could be that stupid, even someone who wasn't raised with magic."

"You're not stupid, you just haven't been taught the stuff you need to know," Quentin said with a shrug. "There's a huge difference between being stupid and being untaught."

Buffy nodded as they continued walking out of the castle and onto the grounds before heading down the short path that led to the greenhouses. Buffy shivered as the chilly October wind permeated her thick robes. She had only been gone for less than a week and she was already missing California. A lot.

"Cold, Buffy?" Quentin asked, amused.

"No, I'm just shivering for the heck of it," Buffy replied sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "I'm used to warmer weather. The cold sucks."

"You're going to love it in winter, then," Quentin said with a grin. "Lots and lots of white, fluffy snow as far as the eye can see."

"Maybe I can just hibernate this winter, like bears do," Buffy grumbled as they reached the greenhouse, polishing off her sandwich before entering. They entered with more than enough time to spare before the end of class, glad that they weren't at risk of being late. Two detentions in a row was not something Buffy wanted to experience.

The class began and it continued on without any major occurrences. The plants were interesting in the way that they moved around and were more alive than plant-like, but nothing tried to kill the students and the teacher didn't target Buffy for being new. Riddle wasn't in the class, so that was one less distraction for Buffy. All in all, it was one of the most enjoyable classes Buffy had had in the two whole days she'd been taking classes.

"I really wish this class didn't end," Buffy said, wrinkling her nose as she and Quentin headed back to the castle.

"You liked it so well, then?" Quentin asked, curious.

"Not particularly," Buffy replied. "I just realized that the closer we get to the end of the day, the closer I get to spending time with Tom Riddle in a cold, dark, dank dungeon learning about potions."

"You'll be fine," Quentin said reassuringly.

"Easy for you to say," Buffy replied with a scoff. "You don't have to spend the time with him."

"I still think you'll be fine," Quentin reassured her. "He seems to like you, which means he'll probably be nice to you. I don't know if that reassures me or worries me."

"I'd go with reassurance for now," Buffy said, patting his arm. "Come on, I wanna dump most of this stuff before dinner. Only want to be carrying the bare essentials, you know?"

"Dinner's not for a while," Quentin commented. "Maybe we should get a start on some of that homework set in the last couple of days. If anyone needs to keep up with their studies, it's you."

"Don't remind me," Buffy said, wrinkling her nose as they entered the castle and began heading up to Gryffidnor Tower. As soon as they entered, they were hailed by Terrence, Minerva and Augusta, who were sitting in their own little corner of the common room.

"Just let us put our bags away and we'll be right down," Quentin told them before he and Buffy split off in their own separate ways to their own dorm rooms. Once she got there, Buffy dumped her books onto her bed and grabbed her potions kit and textbook, stuffing them into the bag before slinging it over her shoulder and heading back down the stairs. She honestly didn't want to spend any more time in the room than she had to; while she had only interacted with Ursula so far, she noticed that the rest of the girls in her year hung off of her much like the Cordettes had done so with Cordelia. While she knew that judging a book by its cover wasn't the best way to go about judging people, what she had seen so far hadn't warmed her to the rest of the girls she shared a dorm with.

Sighing, Buffy checked to make sure she had everything, grabbing her Charms book and Defence Against the Dark Arts materials at last minute, before she turned and left the room. As she exited, she ran into Ursula on her way up.

"Hi Buffy!" she said cheerfully, a smile plastered on her face. However, the smile didn't reach her eyes. "Where are you off to? Have any plans tonight?"

"Just studying before dinner, tutoring afterwards," Buffy replied with a shrug. "Nothing too exciting."

"Right, of course, you need lots of extra help, don't you?" Ursula asked, and Buffy nodded. "Well, good luck with that. See you later!"

She brushed past Buffy and headed into their room, leaving Buffy alone in the stairwell. Sighing, she hitched her bag up higher onto her shoulder and headed back down to the common room, trying to push the Cordelia wannabe out of her mind.

"I thought you were dropping your bag off, Buffy," Minerva remarked, her gaze flicking to her bag.

"Nah, just had to do a quick change," Buffy replied. "I'm probably going to be heading back to the dungeons right after dinner, and I didn't want to come all the way back up here to grab my potions stuff."

"Makes sense," Minerva said with a nod.

The mini study session before dinner and dinner itself passed far too quickly for Buffy's taste, and before long she was standing from the Gryffindor table and grabbing her bag before heading down to the dungeons.

"Good luck, Buffy," Augusta said as she stood.

"Sorry we couldn't get you a new tutor for this," Terrence said apologetically.

"Don't worry about it, I'll survive somehow," Buffy replied with a smile has she hoisted her bag onto her shoulder and headed out of the Great Hall and through the corridors before descending into the dungeons.

It was not until Buffy had reached the bottom of the stairs and was well into one of the dark and dank dungeon hallways that she realised that she wasn't sure where she was supposed to be going. Tom had said to meet him in the dungeons. He just didn't say _which _dungeon.

"Looking for someone?"

Buffy jumped, turned and slugged the person who had spoken right next to her ear. The boy, judging by the build and height of the person, reeled back slightly before straightening, holding onto his jaw. When Buffy saw who it was, she felt slightly guilty for lashing out. Only slightly, though.

"Remind me to never sneak up on you again," Riddle muttered, rubbing his jaw. "I was expecting a scream and maybe a little jump, not a fist to the face. And not a girlie slap, either."

"Well, you know me," Buffy replied with a shrug. "Hit first, ask questions later."

"No, I actually don't know you," Riddle said, his eyes sparkling oddly. "But I'd like to, if you'd let me."

"O-okay," Buffy said, a little uneasy. "Are you going to be okay? Because if you want to go to the hospital wing and get that checked out instead, we can do this tutoring thing some other time."

"I'll go if you'll go," Riddle retorted, his eyes flicking to the small wound at her hairline. "You got pretty banged up last night."

"No, no, I'm fine," Buffy replied quickly.

"Do I make you nervous?" Riddle asked, stepping into Buffy's personal space. It was times like these that Buffy wished she were taller. Riddle made her feel tiny indeed, standing at just under six feet tall.

"N-no," Buffy stammered, wondering where the big, bad Slayer in her had gone. With Riddle standing so close, the courage that had her staring down vampires and demons as if they were nothing fled for the hills, leaving a nervous seventeen year old behind.

"Fine then," Riddle said as he placed a gentle hand on her elbow. "Let's get going, shall we? I'm sure you have other plans for the evening after our tutoring session is over."

"You lead, and I follow," Buffy said as Riddle led her into one of the dungeon rooms. It was different than the one that they used for class; it was smaller, warmer and had brighter lighting. It seemed cosier, even though it was still a dungeon room.

"This is one of the rooms the senior students use for extra credit projects," Tom explained. "Slughorn allowed me to use this one instead of the main classroom because I thought it would be more comfortable and informal than using the usual classroom. Are you comfortable now?"

"Not particularly, but let's get this over and done with already," Buffy said, dropping her bag onto the table and taking out her potions kit and textbook.

"Anything I can do to make you comfortable?" Riddle asked as he grabbed a cauldron and some other materials from the storage cupboard against one of the walls.

"Not particularly, unless you can turn England into California," Buffy replied with a shrug. "So, what are we making today?"

"Something simple, a second year potion," Riddle replied. "It's called a Swelling Solution. Can you guess what it's supposed to do?"

"Makes things swell?" Buffy suggested.

"Correct," Riddle confirmed as he began heading towards the supply cabinet, but deciding against it. "What I want you to do is find the potion in the textbook and get the ingredients from the supply cabinet."

"If I'm going to be doing all of the work, what are you here for?" Buffy asked as she opened the book to the correct page after checking the index.

"I'm here to make sure you don't melt the cauldron or blow yourself up," Riddle said smugly as Buffy began reading the textbook to make sure that she knew what she had to get before she got up to get it. "So, California… is that where you grew up?"

"Yep," Buffy replied, popping the "p" at the end as she copied down the ingredients onto a piece of parchment so that she wouldn't be holding onto a large book while grabbing jars of what most likely would be slimy and gross things.

"Nice ink choice, by the way," Tom said as he glanced at her paper, a smirk on his face. "I like it much better than that blinding pink you had yesterday."

"Um, thanks?" Buffy said uncertainly, glancing down at her paper. She hadn't even realized what colour she was writing in. Slytherin green. _Figures he'd like that one, _Buffy thought as she snatched up her paper and headed over to the storage cabinet with all of the ingredients. Gathering the jars one by one, she held them in her arms and turned to head back to the table, only to be stopped by Riddle standing next to her.

"Do you need any help with that?" he asked, his arms held out to take a couple of the jars.

"Nah, I think I've got it, Riddle," Buffy replied, smiling slightly at him.

"Tom," Tom said as they walked the short distance to the table.

"Pardon?" Buffy asked as she placed the jars onto the table.

"I believe I asked you to call me Tom when we first met," Tom reminded her as Buffy began reading over the potions recipe again. "Have I done something to offend you, Buffy?"

"No," Buffy replied with a shrug.

"Was it something your new friends said about me?" Riddle – _no, Tom_, Buffy reminded herself – asked, his dark eyes questioning. "Because I assure you, only half of the things they said are probably true."

Buffy glanced at him, and saw that he was smirking in amusement. Buffy smiled slightly, rolling her eyes before going back to her book for a moment before looking up at him again. "So, should I just start making this potion and hope for the best?"

"And if you melt the cauldron, I'll make you write a three foot essay on how you went wrong," Tom said with another smirk. Buffy just rolled her eyes and began setting out the ingredients and preparing them in the way the recipe dictated.

"So, what did your friends say about me?" Tom asked as Buffy sliced, diced, squeezed and generally mutilated the ingredients into the condition they had to be before they had to be put into the potion.

"This, that and the other thing," Buffy said dismissively, dumping ingredients into the cauldron. She glanced at him, curious. "You don't strike me as the type to worry about what most people think."

"I worry about what some people think," Tom replied. "People like you. What do you think of me?"

"A little bold for a Slytherin, aren't you?" Buffy asked, arching an eyebrow.

"And what do you know about Slytherins?" Tom asked, arching an eyebrow back at her.

"I've been told that Slytherins are supposed to be sneaky and underhanded," Buffy replied with a shrug. "Isn't in your face, direct question asking more of a Gryffindor trait?"

"And you don't seem to be the type to hold much stock in house stereotypes," Tom remarked. "And you haven't answered my question, Buffy."

"I don't think I know you well enough to form an opinion yet. While you seem charming, things aren't always what they seem at first," Buffy replied. "Is that good enough for you? Because I'd really like to finish this potion before curfew."

"Yes, I believe that is acceptable… for now," Tom said with a smirk.

The questions were put on hold for the time being, and Buffy was allowed to complete her potion. Except for one almost-miss, which Tom pointed out before Buffy could mix in the wrong ingredient, the potion turned out perfectly. At least, it looked like it worked, although the real test would be when they, well, tested it.

"Now, we need to test it," Tom said, picking up a dropper from the tabletop. "Normally, I'd have the person who brewed the potion test it on themselves, but since this is your first potion I'm not going to make you do that. I have an antidote and a Deflating Draught on hand to reverse any ill effects."

Tom dipped the dropper into the potion and extracted a few drops of the liquid. He held out the index finger of his left hand and squeezed a few drops of potion onto it. It swelled to the size of a sausage, causing Buffy to smile at her accomplishment.

"It looks like you'll do fine in Potions this year, Buffy," Tom said as he dipped his finger in the Deflating Draught, making his finger shrink back to its normal size. "I still want to meet with you, though, to make sure that you grasp the concepts of more advanced potions. They're much more complex than a simple Swelling Solution."

"But still, it's pretty good for a first potion, right?" Buffy asked hopefully.

"Yes, it was quite good… for a Gryffindor with no experience whatsoever," Tom replied.

"And that was a backhanded compliment if I ever heard one," Buffy retorted with a snort. "Are we done?"

"Yes, we're done. For now," Tom replied. "Do you need me to escort you back to your common room?"

"No, I'm sure I'll be fine," Buffy said. "It's not like I'll get attacked in the castle or anything."

"Well, if you're sure," Tom said, uncertain.

"Yes, I'm sure," Buffy replied, gathering her things and stowing them in her bag. "I'll see you in class sometime, yeah?"

"Yes," Tom confirmed, nodding slightly. "I suppose I will."

"Well, bye then," Buffy said with a wave and a small smile before turning and heading out of the room and back up to the seventh floor.

She had seven whole floors to ponder the odd, but pleasant, tutoring session she'd had with someone she should, due to both their house affiliations and the fact that he made her "spidey-sense" go haywire, dislike with a passion. However, she was finding it harder and harder to dislike him.

This would definitely give her something to talk about.

xoxoxo

**Okay, so here's chapter twelve. I'm sorry I glossed over a lot of the lessons this time around, but if I hadn't this chapter would have been twice as long, half as interesting and probably would have taken at least another week. Teehee.**

**If anyone's curious, when I picture a teenaged Tom Riddle, I picture Christian Coulson in the part, not the kid they got for Half Blood Prince, Frank Dillane. As for the height, I took it from Ralph Fiennes' height, which is six feet tall.**

**As usual, I love feedback and would be very happy if you told me what you love and hate about this chapter, and the story as a whole. Flames will be used to toast marshmallows.**

**And now, I go back to reading my new addiction, Big Bang Theory Sheldon/Penny fics. Teehee.**


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Three weeks had passed since Buffy had started classes. Three weeks of constant tutoring, with only one day of structured teaching off per week. In those three weeks, Buffy had discovered that she had a knack for Transfiguration and Potions, surprisingly enough, and did abysmally at Charms. She needed the least help in Defence Against the Dark Arts, although she didn't let on to keep her new friends from getting too suspicious. Divination had proved useful, to a point, as she was getting pretty good at interpreting her dreams. The only day she had off from tutoring was on Sunday, and that was mostly because that was when the Gryffindor Quidditch team practiced, and all of her friends were either on the team, or would come down to the Quidditch pitch to watch the team run drills. Buffy would follow, bundled up in as much winter wear as she could find, and toted a text book with her so that she could keep up with her studying, trying not to think how pleased Giles and Willow would have been if they knew how hard she was working to keep her grades up.

The one tutoring session she really, truly looked forward to was her extra Potions lessons, oddly enough. As soon as she and Tom entered that room, the houses were forgotten, and they were Tom and Buffy, two sixth years studying potions together. Buffy's "spidey-sense" still went a little haywire around him, but she had noticed the feeling intensifying when she was around stronger witches and wizards. It was the same when she was with Dumbledore and, to a lesser degree, Minerva. The rest of the people she spent time with kept her senses at a low buzz at all times, and Buffy blamed it on the magic all around the school. She figured that if she stuck around long enough, she'd be able to differentiate between the different feelings she got.

"Hey Tom?" Buffy asked, chewing on her lip nervously. It was yet another Potions tutoring session; that particular evening, they were working on the assignment given in class the previous day. After the success of Buffy's potion on the first tutoring session, Tom had decided that some nights he would set a lower level potion for Buffy to brew, but most nights they would just work on their Potions homework together. "Can I ask you a question?"

"You've just done so, but I suppose I could allow one or two more," Tom replied with a smirk.

"You said that you wanted to get to know me," Buffy began, hoping that her words didn't sound too strange. "Why?"

"Well, who wouldn't?" Tom replied. "I mean, it's not every day a new student that isn't a first year starts at Hogwarts. The fact that you arrived in the middle of term makes it all the more intriguing. Haven't you noticed the attention you've been getting?"

"Um, no?" Buffy replied. She had no idea what he was talking about. She'd spent so much time studying and spending time with her small, central group that she didn't really have much interaction with other houses or years outside of classes, except for her tutors. Tom, of course, was covering Potions, and Felicia, the Hufflepuff she had sat with on her first day of Divination, helped her out when she could with various Divination topics. One-on-one, the girl was very sweet and a very good teacher, explaining the concepts and techniques in plain terms that seemed to be lost on Madam Trelawney.

"You honestly haven't noticed the attention?" Tom asked, astonished.

"When you have your nose in a book as much as I do, you tend not to notice anything else," Buffy replied with a small sniff.

"With the amount of reading you do, I'm surprised you haven't been mistaken for a Ravenclaw yet," Tom retorted with a smirk.

"I'm just doing enough to that I can keep up!" Buffy exclaimed. "If I'd gotten a quote-unquote proper magical education, I wouldn't need to do all of this reading or have a crack team of tutors trying to shove as much information as possible into my head. Thank God I don't need a lot of sleep, otherwise I'd be acting like a zombie or something."

"And I'm very thankful that you need all of this help," Tom replied. Buffy just arched an eyebrow. "What? If you didn't need tutoring, I wouldn't have been asked to help you. This means that I wouldn't have been able to get to know you, which also means that I would not have come to the conclusion that not all Gryffindors are mindless idiots. The fact that I get to share my vast knowledge in Potions is just a bonus."

"You shouldn't paint us all with the same brush," Buffy said with a huff.

"I said not all!" Tom defended himself. "There's one or two I can put up with for more than five minutes before I want to hex them."

"I feel so loved when I spend time with you," Buffy deadpanned as she gathered up her books.

"Where are you going?" Tom asked as he watched Buffy pick up her things. "Curfew's not for another hour yet, and I thought you wanted to go over the whys and whatfors of the Polyjuice Potion again."

"It's going to have to wait until next time, Tommy-boy, because Minerva promised to have one last look over my Transfiguration essay before I hand it in tomorrow."

"Until next time then, Miss Summers?" Tom asked.

"Of course, Mr. Riddle," Buffy replied with a small half smile. She checked her bag one last time, making sure everything where it should be before she slung it onto her shoulder.

"Are you sure you don't want me to walk you to your dorm?" Tom asked as he stood, gathering his things as well. "It's my night to patrol, so it can be on my way if I choose to patrol in that general area."

"I've made it safely back before, I'm sure I can do it again," Buffy replied with a slight roll of her eyes. "And I've been getting pretty good with the hexes, so if anyone gives me any trouble, I'll hit 'em with a leg locker curse before running away."

"Well, if you're sure," Tom said, his voice uncertain.

"Yes, I'm sure," Buffy said confidently with a smile. "See you next week."

"Yes, next week," Tom agreed, and Buffy turned and left the room, practically skipping as she went.

It was odd, really. She and Tom seemed to get along great, and Buffy gathered from nearly everyone she spoke to that Slytherins and Gryffindors did not get along. Ever. Even after students left Hogwarts, the house prejudices still stood, especially during the first few years after graduation. Her opinion of the House system was decreasing by the day, not that it was high to begin with.

It was also the reason why she kept her affiliation with Tom a semi-secret. While her friends knew she was being tutored by Tom, they didn't know about the almost-not-quite-but-maybe friendship that was beginning to form. She knew what her friends thought of him, although they didn't really discuss Slytherins most days. She was certain that she would be questioned within an inch of her life if they found out that she was willingly associating with a Slytherin, and she really didn't want to deal with the why's and the how's. Not yet.

Buffy hadn't gotten far from the work room before she felt something was off. She'd walked this corridor before, both with her friends and on her own, and until now she had felt perfectly safe. However, this evening was different. There was something that was making her skin crawl, and it was in such a way that she knew it wasn't just the general hum under her skin from the amount of magic in the area.

Cautiously, Buffy advanced down the corridor, the feeling intensifying as she went. She stopped in front of the door, the hum under her skin intensifying tenfold as she did so. Part of her, the Slayer part of her, was telling her to go in, investigate and slay, because something that made her skin crawl like that couldn't be of the good. The other part, the human part, the one that wanted to freak out about vampires, was telling her to run away as fast as she could.

It's obvious what side won.

Pushing the door open, Buffy was faced with a pitch dark room. Hearing something banging around in the corner, she took her wand out and went to investigate.

"_Lumos_," she whispered, glad for the handy little light spell. In the corner of the room was a storage cupboard. It was rocking and there were banging noises coming from it, as if someone or something had been locked inside and was trying desperately trying to get out. Reaching out, Buffy moved to open the door, only to have it pushed open before she could touch the doorknob. A tall, striking figure stepped out of the cupboard. Buffy started at his feet, taking in the designer shoes, dress pants, expensive shirt and leather jacket, before her eyes finally made it to the figure's face. What she saw there made her gasp in surprise.

"A-Angel?" she stammered, staring at him in disbelief. "Why? How?"

"It's me Buffy, I'm here," the person wearing Angel's face said. He moved to hug her. "I'm back, I'm safe."

"What are you doing here?" Buffy asked, her voice small as she took a step back. This couldn't be real, this wasn't real. She'd been thrown back in time, and while she now knew that portal travel through time was entirely possible, if unstable, the odds were stacked against Angel ending up in the exact same place, at the exact same time period she was in.

Something was definitely wiggy here.

"I came back," Angel replied simply. "I fought hell beasts and torture for years to come back to tell you something."

He advanced on Buffy, causing her to take steps back until she couldn't back up any more, having bumped into the wall. Angel closed the distance between them, leaning down to whisper in her ear.

"You're going to pay dearly for sending me to hell," he hissed in her ear before she felt his face shift into its demonic visage. She didn't have time to react when a pair of fangs viciously tore into her jugular. Buffy did the first thing she could think of.

She screamed.

She could feel the blood draining from her neck as she struggled, but she was unable to throw Angel off. He was bigger, he was stronger, and he had the advantage of having her pressed against the wall. However, Buffy was still a fighter and she fought tooth and nail to get the vicious vampire off of her. One great shove and Angel was off of her, stumbling a little. It was enough for Buffy to get in a powerful kick, her Mary Jane-clad foot colliding with his chest with such force that Angel went flying across the room, colliding with the storage cupboard. As he recovered, Buffy could hear the sounds of running footsteps in the corridor.

As Angel advanced on her, his mouth and chin covered in gore, someone burst into the room, wand blazing. Both Buffy and Angel were distracted as Tom burst in, his wand at the ready. Buffy was certain that Tom would end up as dessert, but the oddest thing happened when Angel focused his gaze on Tom, standing in the doorway.

Angel's face contorted as if it were in pain before his form blurred, reforming into a cloaked and hooded figure.

"_Riddikulus!"_ Tom said, pointing his wand at the creature. Before the creature could do anything, it flew around the room like a balloon expelling air before it collided with the inside of the cupboard, the door slamming shut behind it. Tom crossed the room and turned the latch, making sure the cupboard was locked tight before he turned to Buffy.

"Are you all right?" he asked as Buffy place a hand on her throat where "Angel" had bitten her. No pain, no blood. Nothing there, except for the old scar from the Master. Odd.

"Yeah, I think I'll be okay. Just a little shaken up," Buffy replied, rubbing the area where she had been bitten. It had felt so _real_. "What was that thing?"

"A boggart," Tom replied, sheathing his wand in his sleeve. "Mostly harmless. They manifest into something a person fears the most, although it's defeated by laughter. The trick is to turn them into something that can make you laugh by using the spell and thinking of something amusing."

"Yeah, I don't think I could think of anything amusing about my boggart," Buffy said, continuing to rub her throat.

"Have you been injured?" Tom asked, concerned. "Boggarts aren't supposed to be able to cause physical harm, just fear."

"No, it just seemed so real. Brought up some old, unpleasant memories," Buffy replied as she removed her hand from her throat. The collar of her shirt had been opened slightly, revealing an expanse of smooth, creamy skin marred by a nasty, violent-looking scar.

"Where did you get that injury?" Tom asked, coming closer. He brushed her hair out of the way to get a closer look, but she flinched back, tightening her tie so that her collar rested where it should, covering up the scar.

"It's not something I want to talk about," Buffy replied quietly. She made a mental note to make sure that her shirts were done up all the way all the time, lest she get more questions. She didn't have to deal with the questions in Sunnydale; most people didn't get close enough to see her scars, and the ones that did knew the story behind them.

"Fair enough, but one day you're going to reveal all of your secrets to me," Tom said confidently. "I can guarantee it."

"I highly doubt it," Buffy said with a roll of her eyes. What was it with people actively wanting to know her secrets? Keeping her secret identity a, you know, _secret_ was going to be far harder than she thought. She just hoped that they wouldn't be sticking their noses into her past too much. She could probably handle them finding out about the fact that she was the Slayer, but she knew she wouldn't be able to handle them finding out about the fact that she wasn't supposed to exist for nearly another forty years.

"_Now_ will you let me walk you to your dormitory?" Tom asked with an arched eyebrow. "I'm not going to offer again. Next time you get attacked, I might not be around to save your sorry arse."

"You're acting like my sorry ass needed saving," Buffy replied with a scoff. "I had it handled."

"Silly little thing like you take on a guy like that, without a wand?" Tom asked with a snort. "Please. You didn't even have your wand out! Who was he, anyway?"

"I'm not used to using my wand," Buffy replied with a pout. "Hel-_lo_, been a Muggle for the past seventeen years, remember? And him? Old boyfriend. Ended really badly."

"Well, shall we then?" Tom asked, holding out his arm. Buffy sighed and picked up her bag and wand where they had fallen before grabbing onto his arm.

"Let's get this over with," she replied. Tom just smirked at her and patted her hand before he led her out of the dungeons.

Both Tom and Buffy were quiet on the walk to the seventh floor. The difference between this stroll around the castle together and the last one is that there were other people in the corridors this time around. Everyone they crossed stared at them in disbelief, students and teachers alike.

"Are you sure this was a good idea?" Buffy asked Tom quietly after she caught the tenth person staring at them. "People are staring!"

"You never struck me as someone who cared what other people thought," Tom replied.

"Normally, I don't," Buffy said. "It's just… weird. I'm not used to having people just _stare_ at me. I was pretty unnoticed at my old school unless I did something that brought attention to me."

"Well, if you're going to be seen in my company, you'd better get used to it," Tom said quietly with a smirk as they made it to the seventh floor. Buffy wasn't sure how they had gotten there so fast; Tom must have been taking a shortcut. Buffy certainly wouldn't have been able to repeat the route.

"And here is where I leave you, where no Slytherin dare enter lest he never return," Tom said, releasing her and giving a small bow. "I'll see you in class, yes?"

"Kind of hard for me to skip, seeing as I go to school where I live," Buffy replied. "See you later."

She waved slightly as Tom turned and left, making sure she saw him turn the corner before she turned to the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"It looks like someone has a young suitor," she said teasingly, a smile on her face.

"Oh shut up," Buffy said with a scowl. "Codswollop."

The Fat Lady huffed before she swung her frame open, revealing the hole in the wall that led to the common room. It was loud and crazy inside, hardly conducive for studying but Buffy was sure she could manage. If worse came to worse, she was pretty sure she could drag Minerva upstairs and they could study in her room, provided that Ursula and the rest of her room mates weren't there. Buffy still hadn't made much headway with them, not that she minded much. She had her own friends in Quentin, Minerva, Terrence, Augusta and even Tom, in his own ways, and Buffy had turned into someone who appreciated the few friends she had rather than had a bunch of hangers-on.

"All right, Buffy?"

She looked up and saw Quentin looking at her, his expression apprehensive. She grinned at him, which caused him to smile in return.

"Yeah, I'm good," Buffy replied as she skipped across the common room, flopping down onto the couch next to Quentin. "You?"

"Getting by. Riddle didn't rag on you too much, did he?" Quentin asked.

"I came back in one piece. That's all that matters," Buffy replied with a shrug.

"That's good," Quentin said. He was quiet for a moment, chewing on his bottom lip and rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. "So, there's a Hogsmeade trip coming up this weekend."

"Oh yeah, I saw the posters for that, and the sign up sheets," Buffy replied.

"Are you going?" Quentin asked.

"I haven't decided yet," Buffy replied with a sigh. Notwithstanding the fact that she didn't have a parent or guardian to sign the permission slip, she also had no money. "I don't exactly have the money to go shopping, you know? I think I might just take advantage of the common room while it's quiet, do some studying or something."

"Oh, well, okay," Quentin said, deflating a little. "I was just asking, you know, becauseIwaswonderingifyou'dgotoHogsmeadewith me."

"Come again?" Buffy asked. "I didn't catch the last part."

"I-I was wondering if you'd want to go to Hogsmeade with me," Quentin said, slower this time, his voice soft and his eyes downcast. "But since you're going to spend the day studying, don't worry about it. I'll hang out with Algie or something. Been kind of neglecting him lately."

"Sorry about that. I didn't even know you were friends with him," Buffy said sheepishly. "I guess I've kinda taken over your life since I got here, huh?"

"It's all right, you need the help and I'm more than willing to lend a hand," Quentin said, his cheeks pinkening slightly. "Are you sure you don't want to come to Hogsmeade? It's fun, there's lots to see even if you can't buy any of it."

"Can I give you an answer tomorrow?" Buffy asked, feeling bad when his face fell even further. "I just want to go through my workload to make sure I can actually afford to take an extra day off studying. I promise I'll let you know as soon as I can."

"Okay," Quentin said, although he sounded less that convinced.

Buffy wanted to say yes outright, she really did, but couldn't, lest she find out that she didn't have permission to go to the village; she'd seen the footnote on the notice, stating that the students needed to hand in their permission slips to their head of house if they wished to go to Hogsmeade. She signed, realizing that this would warrant yet another trip to Dumbledore's office. She hadn't been there since the whole thing with Professor Giles, but she was pretty sure Dumbledore was sick of seeing her.

"Everything all right, Buffy?" Quentin asked, curious.

"Hmm?" Buffy asked absently, glancing at him.

"You just sighed," Quentin clarified. "You sounded kind of sad and I wanted to know if you were okay."

"Yeah, I'm fine, I'm good," Buffy replied with a small, reassuring smile. "Just a little homesick, that's all. It's getting better, but it's tough some days."

"Well, you know I'm here if you ever want someone to talk to," Quentin said, returning Buffy's smile with one of his own.

"Thanks for that. You're a good friend," Buffy said, reaching over and patted his shoulder. "Anyway, I'm going to go and get Minerva to look over my Transfiguration essay before I hand it in tomorrow."

"Okay, see you later then," Quentin said as Buffy got up, grabbing her bag as she did so. With one last smile and wave, Buffy turned to where Minerva was seated with Terrence and Augusta, prepared to have her essay ripped to shreds by Minerva's tiny, neat writing.

***

The next morning, Buffy was awake earlier than any civilised person ought to be. The reason for this was twofold. One, she wanted to finish off the corrections to her essay, and the only time she had to do that was first thing in the morning. She'd gotten most of it done the previous evening under Minerva's watchful eye, but there came a time when even the Slayer couldn't keep her eyes open. The other reason was that she wanted to corner Dumbledore to see if she'd be able to go to Hogsmeade that weekend. While she was quite certain that the answer would be a resounding "no", part of her hoped that, because she literally had nothing and no one except for Hogwarts and the people in it, someone in the school would act as her guardian.

Sitting in a comfy chair in the common room, Buffy finished off her essay with a flourish. Smiling to herself, she tucked the piece of parchment into her bag so that it wouldn't get crumpled. She checked the clock; seven-thirty. Grimacing, Buffy got up and headed out of the common room, hoping that Dumbledore was an early riser. Her housemates had begun to stir, some of them already making their way down to the common room, yawning and bleary-eyed. Buffy knew that Quentin would be down at any moment – she was actually surprised that he wasn't already – and she would rather avoid any inquiries from him as to why she was up so early, because for the past three weeks she had been sleeping late enough that she nearly missed breakfast most mornings.

Entering the eerily quiet corridor, Buffy made her way to Dumbledore's office. By now she knew her way to her classes and the teacher's offices, which was definitely a good thing – she hadn't been late for class since her first Care of Magical Creatures class, lest she see what other unpleasant things the teachers would pass off as detentions.

Before long, Buffy was in front of Dumbledore's office, her hand poised and ready to knock when the doorknob began to turn. Much to her surprise, the door was pulled open, revealing Dumbledore, dressed for the day, a smile on his face and a twinkle in his eye.

"Why Miss Summers, what a pleasant surprise!" he greeted her, although the twinkle in his eye told Buffy that her appearance was far from a surprise.

"Good morning, Professor Dumbledore," Buffy greeted with a smile. "I was wondering if I could ask you something."

"You can ask me anything, child. The challenge is to ask me something I can give you an answer to," Dumbledore replied, his smile widening ever so slightly. "Is this question of a particularly private nature? Because I was just on my way down to the Great Hall for a spot of breakfast."

"We can walk and talk," Buffy confirmed and with that, they started walking in companionable silence.

"What was it you wanted to ask me?" Dumbledore asked when Buffy had been quiet for several minutes.

"Oh, right, yeah. That," Buffy replied. "Well, the thing is, there's a Hogsmeade trip this weekend. I wasn't planning on going because of the amount of work I have to catch up on, but then I got invited to go specifically by someone. I really wanted to say tes, but then I realized that I might not actually permission to go, so I said I'd get back to him, which is why I'm talking to you now."

"I see," Dumbledore said after Buffy's mammoth babble. _First the books, now the babbling. I think I'm turning into a Willow clone,_ Buffy thought with a pang of homesickness.

"So, can I?" Buffy asked, her voice tinged with hope. "I told my friend I'd get back to him as soon as I could."

"Your situation is definitely a unique one,' Dumbledore mused. "Even the few truly orphaned children we have here have the caretakers at the orphanage to sign their permission slips. I suppose, in my capacity of your Head of House, I could give you permission to visit the village. You have been working so hard on your studies, I don't see a reason why you shouldn't be able to go to the village with your friends."

"So… is that a yes?" Buffy asked, wanting to make sure.

"It's a yes," Dumbledore clarified as they reached the Great Hall doors. "I'm certain Mr. Trimble will be very happy to hear this news."

"How did you… ?" Buffy asked, trailing off when she caught Dumbledore's knowing look and wink. She realized that she didn't want to know how Dumbledore knew. Maybe it was like that weird ability parents have of being able to know what their children are up to at all hours of the day.

"Thanks, Professor," Buffy said quietly as Dumbledore smiled one last time before heading to the staff table.

She turned her attention to the Gryffindor table, searching out the boy who was quickly becoming her best friend. She spotted him, sitting amongst the chaos of their house table, his book bag on the seat next to him so that no one would take it. Smiling slightly to herself, she tiptoed behind him and placed her mouth right next to his ear.

"Boo," she whispered. Quentin jumped, nearly falling off the bench as he looked around wildly for whoever had startled him. His gaze fell on Buffy, his eyes narrowing as he took in her smile.

"That was _not_ funny," he grumbled, moving his bag so that she could sit down. After she did just that, he glanced at her. "You know, I thought you were going to sleep through breakfast until I asked Ursula to make sure you were awake. Imagine my surprise when I found out you were already up and out the door before most of the house was awake."

"I wanted to finish my transfiguration essay and go over my workload," Buffy replied. "So, is that invitation to Hogsmeade with you still open, or did you make plans with Algie already?"

"No, I was going to wait until I had an answer from you," Quentin replied. "So, do I have an answer from you?"

"Well, if you want to spend a full day with lil' ol' me, I'm available," Buffy replied. Quentin's face lit up just then, wide smile and bright eyes. Buffy got the odd feeling that she'd not only made his day, she'd made his year. His smile was infectious, and Buffy couldn't help but smile back. However, one thought was niggling in the back of her head as they began to make plans for Saturday.

_What was she going to wear?_

***

**Okay, so here's chapter 13 done for your reading pleasure. It's shorter than the last couple of chapters, and for that I'm sorry. I'm also sorry this took so long, but I spend most of my work day typing on a computer. Unfortunately, the last thing I want to do when I get home is type on a computer. I do bring a notebook and pen with me so I can hand write some of the story on my lunch break and type it when I get home.**

**Anyway, feedback is always appreciated. Next chapter… Hogsmeade trip and a special Care of Magical Creatures project. Should be interesting!**


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

The rest of the week flew by and Saturday was upon the school in no time at all. That morning found Buffy up and alert nearly two hours before she had to meet Quentin, dressed in her school uniform. She wished she had something else to wear, but Dumbledore hadn't thought about that and Buffy really didn't want to ask. Her Head of House had been more than kind, and she didn't want to take advantage of his kindness.

"Good morning Buffy," Augusta greeted as she came down from the seventh year girls' dorms, Minerva on tow. She looked Buffy up and down, taking in her appearance. "I thought you were going to Hogsmeade with Quentin today?"

"I am going to Hogsmeade with Quentin today," Buffy replied.

"Well, why are you wearing your uniform?" Augusta asked, curious.

"I don't really have anything else to wear. I kind of packed up in a hurry when I got invited here and I only got a chance to get the essentials," Buffy replied. While that wasn't exactly the truth, she didn't thing a pair of trousers, a loose blouse and a pair of boots would be acceptable in a conservative boarding school in 1943. Not only that, she hadn't seen her clothes since that fateful day the house elves took her clothes and left the horrid uniform behind.

"Well, that's not going to do at all," Augusta said with a "tsk"-ing noise. "What time are you supposed to be meeting Quentin?"

"Ten-thirty in the Entrance Hall," Buffy replied.

"That gives us just over two hours to get you presentable," Augusta said. "Come in Buffy, we're going to go and raid my closet. There is no way I'm letting you go on a date wearing your school uniform."

"It's not a date…" Buffy tried to protest, but the other girls were already talking excitedly about what they were going to dress Buffy in, like she was some oversized Barbie doll. _Had Barbie been invented in 1943? _Buffy thought as Minerva and Augusta chattered over her.

"Buffy can borrow one of my sweaters or a blouse if we can't find something in August's closet," Minerva said. "I'd offer a skirt or a dress, but they'd probably be too long for you."

"Yeah, yeah, remind me that I'm vertically challenged," Buffy said with a sigh, but she was rather pleased. It seemed like a very long time since she could raid a friend's closet for clothes. No offence to Willow, seeing as she was one of Buffy's best friends, but the girl had no fashion sense. It could have partially been Mrs. Rosenberg's fault. If she ever got back to her own time, she vowed to take Willow shopping.

"Come on now, we don't have much time," Augusta said as she herded Buffy back up the stairs. "Maybe we could get some makeup on you or something, you're looking a little pale."

"Hate to break it to ya August, but we're _all_ a little pale," Buffy reminded her with a grin. "Kind of comes with being in the land of no sun. I really miss California some days."

"You're the one with the abnormal weather," Augusta said with a sniff. "You can actually tell one season from another 'round these parts. Now, what are we going to put you in? I think Gryffindor red might be a good idea."

"Ooh, I have the perfect sweater, then," Minerva said as she headed to her trunk. Buffy surveyed the room; it looked a lot like hers, photographs of actors plastered on the walls, the errant piece of clothing here or there. She didn't recognize any of the actors, and she thought some of the fashions were horrible, but it was a typical teenage girls' room.

"Now, let's get you all dolled up," said Minerva, as she and Augusta advanced on her with clothing, styling implements and cosmetics.

Buffy surveyed her reflection in the full length mirror that hung on the seventh year girls' dormitory door and tried very hard not to wrinkle her nose at what she was wearing. It wasn't bad, per se, just wasn't what she would ever choose on her own. The basic black pleated skirt she had borrowed from Augusta was pleated and fell well below the knee. The red turtleneck sweater was soft and warm; maybe, coupled with her cloak, she wouldn't freeze her ass off in the village. The girls had wanted to curl her hair, but lacking the time to set it in rollers and the fact that Buffy wasn't going to let either of them near her hair with their wands, they had to settle with pinning it back at the sides and letting the rest of her hair flow around her shoulders. Her makeup was simple, powder, a little blush and bright red lipstick. The shoes were something Buffy could tolerate; plain black pumps. She was a little worried that she'd end up looking taller than Quentin – the guy was shorter than most she'd met, only a couple of inches taller than herself when she was in flats.

"Very pretty," said Augusta, patting Buffy's hair down a little as she flitted around, making sure she looked perfect. "You're going to knock his socks off."

"You guys keep acting like this is a date," Buffy said. "It's not a date."

"What do you mean, it's not a date?" Augusta asked, curious.

"I mean, it's not a date," Buffy replied. "It's just two friends hanging out and wandering around town. I used to do that all the time with Xander."

"Maybe she doesn't believe it's a date because she has her eye one someone else," Minerva said, a little slyly.

"Oh, please don't tell me you have your eye on that snake, Riddle," Augusta said, sounding slightly disappointed. "Quentin's so much better for you, and anyone with eyes can see he adores you."

"He does not," Buffy said quickly.

"Oh please, he follows you around like a little lost puppy some days," Minerva said. "It's adorable."

"He's showing me around and helping me with my homework. You know, the stuff _friends _do for each other," Buffy replied. "Besides, he knows I just got out of a really bad relationship and I'm not ready to be anything other than friends with _anyone_."

"Well, if you're sure," Augusta said, uncertainly.

"Yeah, I'm sure," Buffy replied, smoothing her hands down her skirt. "Let's do this thing."

"Why must you make it sound like a chore?" Minerva asked as they gathered their things in preparation to head down to the Entrance Hall.

"Because you guys have me all freaked out," Buffy replied, getting a little nervous. "You with all of your 'this is a date'. Talk. Ugh, if Quentin hadn't asked me I wouldn't even be going."

"Well, just be glad that he did ask you," Augusta said. "You've spent far too much time cooped up in this castle, studying. Even people with crazy studying schedules need to get out and about once in a while. Case in point, Minerva."

"Oh shush you," Minerva said, although there was a hint of a small smile on her face. "We should probably get going. We're going to be late if we dilly-dally here much longer."

"Oh let the boys wait, it won't kill them," Augusta said with a scoff. "Besides, as girls we can be fashionably late."

With that, the trio left the dormitory, only stopping long enough for Buffy to grab her cloak from her room. They strolled along, arm in arm, through the castle, oblivious to the stares they were getting. It wasn't long before they reached the Entrance Hall. There were many students milling about, but their focus was drawn to two young men approaching them.

"August, Min, how are you this morning? And who's your new friend here?" Terrence asked, making a huge show of looking Buffy up and down when he reached them, winking at her covertly. "Buffy, is that you? My, my, you do clean up nicely. Quentin's a lucky man today. If I didn't have August here, I'd snap you up in a second."

"And if I didn't know you were a shameless, horrible flirt before we started courting, I would drop _you _like a hot stone," Augusta snapped, but she was smiling as she took Terrence's arm. "Are you sure you don't want to join us, Minerva? We don't have any concrete plans or anything."

"No August, it's fine," Minerva said with a wave of her hand. "I have some errands to run today. Picking up Christmas presents and all of that. And that goes for you as well, Quentin. You and Buffy have fun. Alone. I'll meet you all at the Three Broomsticks this afternoon."

With that, Minerva turned and took her leave, making sure that Dumbledore crossed her name off on the list before she left the castle completely, off to run her errands, as she said.

"We'll be off, then," said Terrence. "Have fun, you two! See you at the Broomsticks later."

"Yeah, see you later," said Quentin as the two seventh years turned and left. He turned to Buffy "You look really nice today, Buffy."

"Thank you," Buffy replied, ducking her head and blushing a little. Her suspicions about the shoes had been correct; she was taller than him while wearing them, although only slightly. "Shall we?"

"We shall," Quentin said, offering his arm to her. Buffy took it, tucking her hand into the crook of his arm as he led them out of the castle. Dumbledore checked off their names on his list as they passed by, bidding them good day as he did so.

"He seems rather interested in your progress here," Quentin said, almost casually, as he led them to one of the carriages that would take them to the village. "More than the average Gryffindor student, almost."

"Well, why wouldn't he?" Buffy asked as she allowed Quentin to help her up, although she probably could have managed on her own. However, it was nice to be in the presence of a gentleman. "He's been almost like a pseudo guardian while I'm here, seeing as I have zero contact with my own parents."

"I suppose that's true," Quentin said as the carriage began trundling down the path leading to Hogsmeade. They were silent for the short trip, the air tinged with a slight awkwardness until they shuddered to a stop at the end of the path.

Quentin opened the carriage door and exited first, helping Buffy out of the carriage. She surveyed her surroundings; it was a cute little town with a few small shops and residences. It was no London, Paris, or even Sunnydale, but it was cute, and Buffy was certain that she would find lots of cute, one of a kind things if she went inside the shops to browse.

She was beginning to regret coming to the village now. Having all these potential things to buy with no money to do so was a bit like torture for a shopaholic.

"Where to first?" Buffy asked. Quentin was more knowledgeable and would therefore know exactly where to go. Besides, he was the one who probably had errands to run. Buffy was just along for the ride.

"Well, I was hoping to go into Honeydukes', the sweet shop," Quentin replied. "It's my favourite shop here and I always make a point of visiting when we've got a Hogsmeade weekend."

"Lead on, then," Buffy said, allowing herself to be led into the store.

The place was already crowded with Hogwarts students, mostly third and fourth years, but there were a couple of older students browsing as well. The store was filled to the brim with various candies and chocolates, all of which Buffy had never seen before. She smiled sadly when she thought of how much Xander, her junk food loving Xander, would have loved this place.

"Go on, pick something," Quentin said from her side.

"Pardon?" Buffy asked, a little surprised.

"Pick something," Quentin said. "My treat."

"Oh, no, I couldn't," Buffy replied, feeling suddenly awkward. Maybe the girls had been right. It wasn't a thought she was particularly comfortable with.

"I insist," Quentin said firmly, his tone leaving no room for arguments. "If you don't pick something, I'll pick it for you and you might end up with an Acid Pop or something equally unpleasant. So, go pick something. Think of it as a reward for working so hard."

"You're going to be the death of me," Buffy replied, but she still turned away from him and began browsing the shelves.

There were free samples galore, and Buffy tried a little bit of everything to figure out what she liked. She even tried one of the Blood Pops and realized quickly that they definitely weren't to her liking. She didn't think to ask if they were blood flavoured or made of actual blood. Ignorance was bliss, in this case. It wasn't until she had almost finished going around the room when she stumbled on the Sugar Quills display. Finding that she liked them more than any other sweets she had sampled, she grabbed a package of them and tried to find Quentin in the mass of teenagers. It wasn't difficult; even though he was shorter than most people in the shop, Buffy had spent so much time with him in the previous weeks that she was somewhat tuned into him and could find him when she needed him.

"Found something, did you?" Quentin asked with a grin as Buffy elbowed her way through the crowd to him. She held up her package of Sugar Quills. "Excellent choice, one of my favourites. I'm done as well, so as soon as I settle up we can get out of here. It's getting a little too crowded in here for my tastes."

"Totally agreeing with you there. I'll wait for you outside, okay?" Buffy said and Quentin nodded in agreement. Buffy elbowed her way through the crowd, apologizing numerous times when she stepped on people's toes. It reminded her of crazy sales at the mall, the ones where there was a line up to get into the store and an employee stood at the door and only let people in when others left.

Before long, Buffy had excited the shop, taking in a lungful of cool fall air as she stepped out. The sweet shop, while interesting, was far too crowded and stuffy for Buffy's taste, and even though it was chilly outside, the fresh air was far preferable to the interior of the shop. Buffy's peace was short-lived, however, when a voice caught her attention.

"Fancy meeting you here. Did your date abandon you or something?"

Buffy turned, not at all surprised to see Tom Riddle standing a short distance away, although she was surprised to see him standing there alone. She'd observed him these last couple of weeks, and had gotten the impression that he was quite popular with his Slytherin friends, always talking with them, snickering and smirking at things they said, although even with her Slayer hearing, she couldn't tell what was being said.

"No, he's just inside, settling up. He'll be out in a minute," Buffy replied with a shrug. "And it's not a date."

"Pity. If I were him, I wouldn't let you out of my sight," Tom said with a rueful smile. "And it must be a date. You're all dressed up and on the arm of one of that insipid Gryffindor boy you insist on spending every waking moment with."

"The dressed up thing wasn't my fault. Minerva and August ambushed me with clothes and make-up," Buffy replied. "And how did you know I was here with Quentin, anyway? I don't remember telling you. Hell, I don't remember even speaking to you after our tutoring session earlier this week."

"News travels fast around here. You should know that by now," Tom replied with a smirk as the door to Honeydukes opened and Quentin exited, clutching his paper wrapped package to his chest.

"It's a jungle in there," Quentin said as he approached, stopping short when he saw that Buffy wasn't alone. "What are _you _doing here?"

"Just making sure Miss Summers here won't be spirited off into a dark alley by someone with nefarious intentions," Tom replied with a bow. "And now that you're here, I will take my leave. A pleasure, as always Buffy. You look absolutely ravishing today. McGonagall and Smith do excellent work."

Tom bowed and tipped an imaginary hat at her before turning and walking away, a jaunty little spring in his step. Buffy turned her attention to Quentin, who was glaring at him as if he wanted to set him on fire. She noticed that his right hand was twitching, hovering over the pocket of his robes where Buffy was pretty sure Quentin kept his wand.

"Look, forget him. He's just being his creepy Slytherin self," Buffy said quietly, placing a hand on his arm to calm him, hoping it would work. "Come on, show me what this place has to offer. I'm sure you know all of the best shops."

"Yeah, okay," Quentin replied, relaxing slightly. Her plan had worked, even if the result had only been temporary.

The tour of the village had taken up most of the afternoon. Quentin had ducked into a couple of shops, and while Buffy followed him in she didn't show any particular interest in anything. Thankfully, Quentin didn't offer to buy her any more presents. The Sugar Quills were more than enough in her mind. Before long, it was time to meet Augusta, Terrence and Minerva at the Three Broomsticks. They were greeted with a wave by the proprietor, a man Quentin said was named Mr. Rosmerta. The five of them commandeered a table and it was much like their mealtimes at the Gryffindor table, except they had their own table instead of being surrounded by their own housemates. As the afternoon slipped to early evening, Buffy stifled a yawn, suddenly tired.

"Excuse me. I guess everything's beginning to catch up on me," Buffy said, sounding tired. "I think I might head back pretty soon, turn in early tonight."

"Do you want me to walk you back to the castle?" Quentin asked, and Buffy nodded in agreement. They bid their good-byes to the seventh years before getting up to leave the pub, Quentin helping Buffy into her cloak before they left.

The walk to the castle was a quiet, uneventful one, longer than Buffy had expected but pleasant enough. Buffy tried not to shiver too much underneath her cloak. If Quentin noticed, he didn't say anything.

Before long they reached the castle and it seemed like no time at all had passed before they reached Gryffindor tower. They entered and flopped directly onto one of the couches in front of the fire, taking advantage of the fact that the younger students were all at dinner.

"Thank you for taking me out. I really appreciate it," Buffy said with a happy sigh as she settled into the couch. She glanced over at Quentin, who was staring at her. "What? Do I have something on my face?"

"No," Quentin replied, his gaze flicking to her lips. As he leaned in, she realized how close they were, and she recognized the universal body language for the "lean in and kiss". Thinking quickly, she turned her face so that his lips hit her cheek. He drew back, confused.

"I'm sorry, Quentin," Buffy said, her voice soft. She really did feel sorry; he was a nice guy, treated her exceptionally well considering she'd practically fallen into his life.

"It's Riddle, isn't?" Quentin asked, his eyes hard, jealousy colouring his. "Why did you agree to go out with me if you're with Riddle? _Why_ are you with that snake, anyway?"

"It's not Riddle, it's not anyone," Buffy replied, chewing on her bottom lip. "I'm just not ready for anything more than friendship. My last relationship ended really, really badly, and I just… I can't. Not now."

"Not ever?" Quentin finished lamely. He looked a little guilty.

"I wouldn't go that far," Buffy replied. "But it's going to be a while. I'm sorry if I led you on."

"Thought I had a chance, you know?" Quentin said with a shrug.

"And you still might. Just not now," Buffy replied with an apologetic smile. "I think I'm going to head to bed. See you in the morning, I guess."

"Yeah, see you," Quentin replied, his voice soft. Buffy smiled at him one last time, patting his had before she got up and headed to her room, ascending the stairs quickly. Quentin watched her go, and it wasn't until he heard her dorm room close that he realized that Buffy had left her package of Sugar Quills on the couch.

"And then I sicced my enormous snake on the helpless third year, killing her instantly."

"Hmm?" Buffy asked, blinking. She glanced over at Tom, who was looking at her with a mix of curiosity and amusement.

"Are you all right?" he asked. "You seem a little distracted lately. You're not even paying attention to me."

"Sorry, I've just got a lot on my mind lately," Buffy replied with a sigh, rubbing her eyes as she sucked on her quill. Quentin had insisted that she take them despite the fact that things had changed between the two of them, going as far as getting one of the other girls in the dormitory to take the package up to her and leave it on the bed. They hadn't spoken much in the last few days, although they were still sitting next to each other during classes, so not all hope was lost.

"Homesick again?" Tom asked.

"Surprisingly, no," Buffy replied. She hadn't had time to be homesick, what with all of the awkwardness between herself and her best friend. "And before you ask, no, I don't want to talk about it."

"Good. I didn't want to hear about your Gryffindor melodrama anyway," Tom said with a snort.

"Don't make me hit you again," Buffy said, narrowing her eyes at him.

"Ma'am, no ma'am," Tom replied quickly, rubbing his jaw where she had slugged him so many weeks ago. "So, trouble in paradise?"

"What do you mean?" Buffy asked, turning her attention to her Potions textbook. If she thought about it, she didn't really need to go to her Potions tutoring sessions anymore, although it was so ingrained into her routine that it seemed almost wrong to stop them. Also, Buffy liked having someone to look over her essays to make sure they were right.

"You and that Trimble guy," Tom clarified. "Did you two have a little lover's spat?"

"Can't have been a lover's spat because we're not dating," Buffy replied. "Or courting, or seeing each other, or whatever you want to call it."

"And does he know that you're not seeing each other?" Tom asked.

"I thought you said you didn't want to hear about this?" Buffy retorted with a snort.

"I wouldn't have wanted to hear it if you were willing to tell me," Tom replied. "But now that I know it'll make you uncomfortable if we talk about it, I want to know what's troubling you that much more."

"You're evil," Buffy said.

"I'm a Slytherin," Tom retorted.

"Same difference," Buffy replied with a snort.

"So, what's really bothering you?" Tom asked. "You know I'll get it out of you eventually. It'll be less painful if you tell me now."

"You won't get anything out of me," Buffy replied. "You still haven't gotten any more information out of me than what I've told you."

"That's what I want you to think," Tom said, tapping the side of his nose.

"Oh yeah, and what have you learned about me?" Buffy asked, arching an eyebrow. "And what kind of sources do you have?"

"Ah, but that would be revealing my secrets," Tom replied. "Now come on, let's get that essay of yours done already. I still have to do my rounds tonight."

"I'm gonna get it out of you," Buffy said quietly as she went back to studying her parchment. "You won't know when and you won't know how, but I'll get it out of you."

"And so the tables have turned," Tom said with a chuckle as they got down to business. "And so the tables have turned."

**Okay, I know this one is shorter than the last one. Sorry about that. I'm not quite sure how much I like this chapter, but it does move the story along. Things are about to get interesting, I promise. Don't know when the next instalment will come, but I'll do my best to get it out relatively soon.**

**Thanks for reading and hopefully reviewing. I really appreciate the feedback.**


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

Classes were going fine for Buffy, and although she was never going to be an Outstanding or even an Exceeds Expectations student in most of her subjects, she'd be able to pull off an Acceptable in most of them.

Except Care of Magical Creatures, that is.

Buffy's relationship with Professor Ramsay had not improved in the slightest, and she would even go as far to say that it had probably gotten worse. She wasn't sure why the man seemed to call her out above all of the students, smirking in sick satisfaction when she didn't know the answer. It wasn't like she was trying to be stupid, but the class was the one she disliked the most. Even History of Magic was more intriguing to her, even though the professor, an ancient man named Professor Binns, droned on like a vacuum and had a voice that made Ben Stein sound like he had the exuberance of Billy Mays.

She sighed as she hitched up her bag, heading towards the first floor classroom where Care of Magical Creatures was being held for the winter. With November only days away, the temperature was really beginning to drop. The grass was normally dusted with a light covering of frost in the morning, and the ground was frozen hard most of the day. Professor Ramsay had finally bowed to the comments of his students and had brought the lessons indoors until the weather was warmer.

"Hey Buffy," Quentin greeted quietly as she sat next to him at their table at the back of the room. The boy had protested at the placement in the classroom, but one pleading look from Buffy and he quieted down. He knew about the animosity between Buffy and Professor Ramsay and decided keeping Buffy out of the line of fire was better than getting a decent seat to see the blackboard.

"Hey," Buffy greeted, just as quiet. Their friendship was still a little strained after the whole post-Hogsmeade almost kiss debacle, and they weren't the only people who were aware of it. Minerva and Augusta had both noticed and had asked Buffy about it, numerous times, and each time she deflected their questions. They might have been her friends, her only female friends at Hogwarts, but it wasn't something she wanted to talk about.

"How was Divination?" Quentin asked as Buffy settled in, taking her textbook and notes from the previous class out of her bag. Following that was a pot of ink and a quill; Buffy had finally gone through her collection and had put the inks that she knew that she would never use in the bottom of her trunk so that she wouldn't grab one of them by mistake. She had taken to colour coding her notes so that she could tell at a glance what a classes her notes were from.

Her Care of Magical Creatures notes were black.

Her Potions notes were green. Some would say Slytherin green.

"It was okay, I guess," Buffy replied with a shrug. She wasn't having many odd Slayer dreams, or any dreams at all, really. She was sleeping soundly when she went to bed, dreamless sleep taking over as soon as she hit the pillow. She wasn't sure why, seeing as when she was in Sunnydale she didn't sleep as much and when she did she was plagued by vivid Slayer dreams. She supposed that she could ask Professor Giles about it, even though the woman was still holding Buffy at arm's length.

"That's good to hear," Quentin said. "Is Ursula still bothering you?"

"No more than usual," Buffy replied. "I think she's finally realized that I don't think you're a loser and that I won't stop hanging out with you."

"Yay me," Quentin said as Professor Ramsay stalked into the room. Now that the classes were held indoors, he was far more cranky than he had been when the classes were held at the paddock outside.

"All right, settle down," he said as he stood at the front of the classroom. "I have a long term assignment for you, on top of anything else I might give you. Each of your wands has a core that comes from a magical creature. The most common ones are dragon heartstrings, phoenix feathers and unicorn tail hairs. Other wand makers have used other materials for cores. I would like you to turn in a paper on the kind of creature that provided the core to your wand. I will be giving you the rest of the lesson to work on this assignment. You may go to the library to work, if you wish. Just make sure you get a pass from me so that you don't get a detention from another teacher who might catch you out of class."

"Looks like I'll be heading to the library," Quentin said as he packed up his books. "I'll be doing my report on dragons. What's in your wand?"

"Vampire blood," Buffy replied as she, too, packed up her books. While she knew a lot about vampires, she still had to keep up appearances of actually doing the research. Besides, the more time she spent away from Professor Ramsay, the happier she would be.

"You're not serious, are you?" Quentin asked, looking at her in surprise. "Who made your wand?"

"That's what Ollivander told me," Buffy replied. "He wanted me to try it because I literally tried every wand he had. He made it as an experiment and wasn't even sure it was going to work."

"Lucky. You got an interesting wand core," Quentin said as he got up and headed towards Professor Ramsay.

"More like something that makes me more of a freak," Buffy called back, hitching up her bag onto her shoulder. "Could you grab me one of those passes while you're there?"

Quentin waved at her over his shoulder, indicating that he had heard her. She waited for him to come back, adjusting the bag on her shoulder as she did so. It was a quick and painless procedure to get the library passes, although Professor Ramsay narrowed his eyes at Buffy from his position behind his desk as he handed Quentin two passes. Before long, they were on their way to the library, a slightly awkward silence between them. They hadn't talked about what had happened after Hogsmeade, both choosing to pretend it didn't happen. It was working, so far, but there still was that slight air of tension between them. It was getting better, though; at least they were talking again.

The library was nearly deserted, the only occupants being some sixth and seventh years who had a free period to be used for extra study. Buffy could feel a pair of eyes on her and sure enough, Tom had spotted her nearly the moment she had walked in the door. His lips quirked up in a small smile, but gave no other indication that he had seen her. However, it was a big enough action for Quentin to notice, and when he did he scowled darkly.

"Why don't you tell him to shove off already?" he asked as they headed to a table away from Tom. Quentin glared meanly at the Slytherin as they passed by.

"Funny, he's been telling me the same thing about you," Buffy muttered with a snort as they dropped their stuff onto a table. Her friends didn't say too many disparaging things about Slytherins in her presence, but when they did it got her hackles up. "Are you against me having friends in different houses?"

"No, just Slytherins," Quentin replied.

"Has he made fun of you at all?" Buffy asked.

"Not since you got here," Quentin replied after thinking for a moment.

"Has he done anything to physically harm you?" Buffy asked.

"Not since you got here," Quentin repeated.

"Has he interacted with you whatsoever?" Buffy asked.

"Once, but that was only because he was wondering where you were," Quentin replied. "Don't you see the common factor here? He's acting differently because of you!"

"Isn't that a good thing, then?" Buffy asked, arching an eyebrow. "As long as we're on good terms, it means that he won't be bothering people. I might be blonde but even I can see that that's definitely of the good."

"That's just what he wants you to think," Quentin said. "Look, he's a Slytherin. Slytherins are sneaky and manipulative, and they will do whatever it takes to get what they want from people."

"So you're saying people don't change?" Buffy asked.

"People change. Slytherins aren't people," Quentin retorted.

"I can't believe how freakin' close minded you're being," Buffy hissed, narrowing her eyes at him. The librarian, a woman who looked a bit like a bird, glared in their general direction. "I have half a mind to march right out of here and do my research later."

"Look, I'm sorry, okay?" Quentin said. He really did sound apologetic. "Let's not fight. Things are just starting to get back to normal. Are you going to the Quidditch game this weekend?"

"That's on Halloween, right?" Buffy asked. Thinking about Halloween made her nervous. While it was supposed to be a supernatural day off, so to speak, she'd had rotten luck with that and only hoped that this year her luck would change.

"Yep," Quentin replied. "And after the game there's a huge feast and lots of sweets. It's brilliant, almost as good a Christmas dinner here. Are you going home for Christmas?"

Buffy chewed her lip, not wanting to show how upsetting not being able to go home was for her. She didn't have any choice; she had to stay at the school. She didn't have anywhere else to go, although her friends didn't know about that yet.

"I think I'll be staying here," Buffy replied. "It's just too hard to get back home for a couple of weeks, what with the mystical conversion and everything."

"Well, I'll stay with you then," Quentin said.

"You don't have to do that," Buffy replied quickly. "Don't you want to spend time with your family?"

"Of course I do," Quentin said with a shrug. "But my mum and dad will understand. They'd probably even insist on me staying here to keep you company. Or, you know, bringing you home to meet them, but they won't enforce something like that."

"Well… thank you so much. It's very sweet of you," Buffy said, grateful for his kindness and ignoring the little voice in the back of her head that was saying that the only reason why he was offering was because he was hoping that he still had a chance with her. Shaking her head slightly to clear those negative thoughts out of her head, she got up from her seat. "I'm going to head over to the vampire section, see if they have any information that I can use in my report."

"I have that _Vampyre _book you can borrow, if you like," Quentin said as she turned and left, waving a hand over her shoulder to indicate that she had heard him.

As soon as she rounded the corner and was out of Quentin's sight, someone grabbed her wrist. She was about to cry out but a firm hand covered her mouth. Buffy's hazel eyes met a sparkling pair of dark blue ones, the owner of said eyes smirking in amusement.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Buffy hissed when Tom had taken his hand off of her mouth.

"What, did I startle you?" he asked, his expression innocent. Well, as innocent as a Slytherin could get.

"You know damn well you startled me," Buffy retorted, narrowing her eyes at him.

"Proper ladies don't swear, you know," Tom informed her.

"Sorry," Buffy said as she turned and headed towards the Defence Against the Dark Arts section.

"I never said I liked proper ladies," Tom retorted with a smirk. "I don't remember getting an assignment for Defence Against the Dark Arts."

"I'm not getting information for a Defence Against the Dark Arts assignment," Buffy replied as she stopped at the vampire shelf. She picked up a book entitled _Notable Vampires in History_ and hoped that it might have information about Angel, or Angelus, in it. If she was going to do this report, she was going to go all out. Maybe that way Professor Ramsay would be impressed with the level of work she went into her report and he wouldn't shoot death glares at her anymore.

"Doing extra research, then?" Tom asked, gesturing at the book.

"Nope, Care of Magical Creatures," Buffy replied. "We have to write a paper on the creature that supplied our wand cores."

"Shouldn't you be looking at phoenixes, dragons and unicorns, then?" Tom asked, trying to glance at the title of the book Buffy was now holding to her chest.

"My eyes are up here," Buffy said, noticing where Tom's gaze had gone, arching an eyebrow at him.

"I'm looking at the book, I swear," Tom said, averting his gaze from her chest area, his eyes meeting Buffy's.

"I know, I'm just messing with you," Buffy retorted with a playful smirk, trying to ignore the alarm bells going off in her head. When had Tom turned into someone to flirt with? She would admit, he was rather good looking, but that didn't mean she should flirt with him. Hell, she shouldn't be flirting with anyone, although the pain of sending Angel to Hell was diminishing by the day. She wasn't sure how comfortable she was with that revelation.

"But still… Ollivander wands are made with phoenix feathers, dragon heartstrings and unicorn tail hairs," Tom said. "Why are you getting books from the Defence Against the Dark Arts section?"

"Because the core of my wand doesn't come from a phoenix, unicorn or dragon," Buffy replied as she turned and headed back to the table she was sharing with Quentin.

"Ah, so the plot thickens," Tom said as he followed. "Now, what is at the core of Miss Summers' wand, if it is not phoenix feather, dragon heartstring or unicorn tail-hair."

"You'll just have to add it to the list of things I'm not going to tell you and figure it out for yourself," Buffy retorted as she reached the table she was sharing with Quentin. The other boy was nowhere to be seen; he must have been off getting his own books on dragons.

"That list is getting mighty long, Buffy. I don't know if I'll have room for anything else," Tom said. "You know, you could give me one little hint about something I'm trying to find out."

"And make it easy for you? I don't think so," Buffy said, arching an eyebrow. She made a shooing motion with her hands. "Now get out of here before Quentin gets back. I don't want him crankier than he already is."

"Why do you hang around with that tosser?" Tom asked. "It's obvious the only reason why he hangs around you is because he fancies you."

"That's not the only reason," Buffy said, trying not to sound hurt. She knew it was one of the main reasons, but it definitely wasn't the only one. "He's my best friend, Tom."

"What does that make me?" Tom asked. "I thought I was your best friend."

"Is the big, bad Slytherin insecure about something?" Buffy teased with a smirk.

"No, I just want to know where I stand with you," Tom replied. "Have to strategize, you know."

"Well, I haven't decided what you are to me yet," Buffy said, shooing him away again. "Now scoot! Things are just starting to get back to normal with me and Quentin and I don't want you mucking it up."

"You know, you being ashamed of being seen with me hurts my feelings," Tom said with a mock pout, but he turned and left. He hadn't gone far, settling at a table on the other side of the bookshelf. Buffy sighed and plopped down onto her chair, grabbing quills and parchment so that she could take notes.

"Hey, is everything okay? I thought I heard voices," Quentin said, his arms full of books. Seeing that he was about to topple over, Buffy got to her feet and grabbed most of the load, setting it down gently on the table.

"Yeah, everything's good. Just talking to myself," Buffy replied with a small shrug. It looked like he hadn't noticed the fact that she had taken on more books than someone her size should have been able to. Good.

"Interesting looking book,_" _Quentin remarked, glancing at the cover of Buffy's book. "It's supposed to be a general research essay, on the creature in general. You know, like what other kinds of magic the creatures can be used for."

"Of course, I was going to include that too," Buffy said with a wave of her hand, glad that Quentin had said something about that. It would mean more research, but it would also mean that she had a better way to get into Ramsay's good books. "It's just that, I know the specific creature that provided the core of my wand, and I wanted to do a little more research on him."

"You do know that Ramsay's not going to believe you, right?" Quentin asked. "I mean, it's not the most common wand core."

"And if he wants proof, he can ask Mr. Ollivander," Buffy replied with a shrug. "If things don't get better, I think I might drop Care of Magical Creatures next year. I'll tough it out this year, but I don't need this kind of stress."

"Do you know if you'll take your OWLs this year?" Quentin asked. "I'm pretty sure they're a prerequisite for the NEWTs, but since you weren't at a magical school last year, I'm not sure how your situation would be handled."

"What are OWLs and NEWTs?" Buffy asked, certain that Quentin wasn't actually talking about owls and newts.

"Ordinary Wizarding Levels and Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests," Quentin replied, and he launched into a lecture about the various levels of testing Hogwarts students had to endure in their fifth and seventh years, as the two of them began their research for Care of Magical Creatures.

* * *

The rest of the week passed quickly and soon it was Sunday morning, which meant Quidditch. The iron grey sky didn't seem to deter the players or the students one bit. Breakfast was a loud affair, everyone chattering about the odds of the teams playing. Most people were saying that Gryffindor was going to win, but there were some who had seen Ravenclaw practicing who were saying that the blue and bronze team was going to be victorious. Even though she had sat and watched Gryffindor's practices since she had arrived a month ago, Buffy still didn't have a good handle on the game. Then again, she was never really interested in sports, even if said sport was played on flying broomsticks and had two balls that flew around and tried to unseat the players.

"Oh, you're going to love it, Buffy," Terrence said as they joined the other Gryffindors in the Great Hall. "I kind of hope that we don't catch the snitch too early, so that you can see all of the plays we have planned out."

"So, when someone catches the snitch, the game is over, right?" Buffy asked. "That's the little gold ball?"

"Not _someone_, Buffy, the _Seeker_," Terrence said, sounding slightly exasperated. He had been trying to explain the game to her since it had come up in conversation, which caused the almost blow up argument between Terrence and Minerva. "Honestly Buffy, haven't you been listening to me at all?"

"In case you haven't noticed, she's been a little preoccupied," Minerva said with a roll of her eyes. "Even I wouldn't expect her to be able to keep up with the rules of Quidditch and her studies at the same time. Give her a little more time to catch up with her studies and I'm sure she'll be able to follow the game a little more closely."

"In case you haven't noticed, _she _is standing right here," Buffy said pointedly from between her two friends. They stared at her, as if just remembering that she was there. "Has anyone ever considered what I want?"

"You can't be trusted to know what you want," Terrence said. "I mean, with the company you keep and everything."

"What, are you saying hanging around you is a bad thing?" Buffy asked, a little confused.

"Not us, we're one of your few good choices," Terrence said. "I'm talking about that evil Slytherin git, Riddle."

"Not you too," Buffy said with a groan. "I haven't been spending any more time with him than necessary. You know, the whole need a tutor for Potions kind of thing?"

"Please, we've all seen the looks between you two at meals and in the corridors," Terrence said with a scoff. "You've gone and started fancying a Slytherin!"

"So what if I have?" Buffy asked, arching an eyebrow. "Is his fascination with me such a horrible thing? I mean really, hasn't he changed for the better since I got here? Couldn't that be considered a _good _thing? Besides, I don't see how who I "fancy" is any of your damn business."

"Look, Buffy, I worry about you," Terrence said. "We all worry about you."

"Maybe you should listen to Terrence," Augusta said carefully. "He might not have any sense about a lot of things, but we all know about Riddle. He's charming when he wants something and nasty every other time. He obviously wants to get on your good side, so he's toning down all of the horrid things he does in secret so that he seems like the brilliant and charming sixth year almost all of the teachers seem to think he is."

"Look, I'll be careful," Buffy said with a reassuring smile. "After my last ex, he's practically a docile kitty cat. And who said I liked him anyway? He's my Potions tutor, and yes, we've gotten a little closer over the past month but I don't like him like that."

"Well, if you're sure," Terrence said, still sounding uncertain.

"Of course I'm sure," Buffy said firmly. "Now, isn't there a Quidditch match to be had? Maybe I'll be able to see what the fuss is about if I get to see a real game."

"Of course there is," Terrence said, appearing to forget all about their argument about Tom Riddle. "But first, breakfast! Can't go beating Ravenclaw on an empty stomach!"

* * *

After the Quidditch game, Buffy definitely knew what the fuss was about. She sat with Augusta and Quentin; Terrence was on the field, being Quidditch captain and all, and Minerva was sitting on the bench. The game had run long; both teams were evenly matched and the Seekers were unable to spot the Snitch. It was only when the Gryffindor Seeker got injured that the Snitch was caught; Minerva had stepped onto the field because the little third year that normally was on reserve was in the hospital wing with the flu. Ten minutes after Minerva stepped in, the Snitch was caught, earning Gryffindor one hundred and fifty points and securing the win.

The sky was darkening as the students and faculty made their way to the castle after the match. The Gryffindors were all together in one big mob, planning a party after the Halloween feast to celebrate their win. In the middle of the group was Minerva McGonagall, hoisted up on her team mates' shoulders, the star of the match. While it wouldn't garner her a permanent position on the starting line up, Buffy was pretty certain that Minerva would now be their go-to girl if they needed a reserve Seeker again.

Buffy was trying to get into the celebratory spirit, but something was off. She could sense something dark and sinister, far different from the buzz she had constantly felt since she had arrived at Hogwarts. It was coming from the direction of the Forbidden Forest, which was odd. During her first and only foray into the forest, she hadn't felt anything inherently sinister or evil emanating from the thatch of trees bordering the school grounds.

Seeing as she was on the edge of the crowd of Gryffindors, it was hardly difficult for her to slip away. As she headed towards the Forest, she thought that she had slipped off unnoticed. However, she had underestimated how aware certain people were of her, and as she headed towards the forest, three people followed behind her at a distance, two armed with wands and one very large fourteen year old armed with a crossbow.

**Chapter 15 is here folks. To anyone who is even remotely worried about me abandoning this, fret not. I have plans, big plans for this story, and am already working on the sequel because I know exactly what's going to happen in this story. I just have to get it out on paper, hahaha.**

**Anyway, as always, reviews are appreciated and flames will be used to toast marshmallows.**


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Buffy slipped into the Forest, grabbing a piece of wood that was distinctly stake-shaped. Perfect. Dumbledore had suggested that she could use her wand as a stake, but she didn't want to risk it. She'd seen what had happened to stakes if she didn't withdraw them right away, and she'd rather not have to explain to Dumbledore and Mr. Ollivander that her wand had turned to dust because she had used it to stake a vampire and wasn't quick on the withdrawal.

The buzz under her skin was beginning to intensify and before long she could feel distinctly what was in the Forest. Vampires.

"Well, well, well, what have we here?" said a voice, male. A vampire, unknown to her, came forward, flanked by two others. "A lost little lamb wandering to her slaughter. An appetizer before the main course."

"Don't you scumbags know that Halloween is supposed to be my night off?" Buffy asked, letting the Slayer take over. Her attention was focused completely on the immediate threats, the vampires, that she wasn't aware of anything else. She could sense at least another three vampires hiding in the trees around her.

"The Slayer wasn't supposed to be here," the leader snarled, morphing into game face. Buffy slipped into a fighting stance and was ready when his two goons advanced on her, attacking as a unit.

Holding her own against the two minions, she was able to dispatch them quickly. Brushing the dust off of her uniform, she turned her attention to the leader again.

"Buffy, look out!"

Turning her attention to the person who called her name, she was surprised to see Quentin, Tom and Hagrid standing behind her, armed with wands and a crossbow. She didn't have time to dwell on the why and how of it as five more vampires advanced on her; she had underestimated the number of vampires that had been hiding in the bushes. She went on the attack, but before long she was unable to keep up her offence, going on defence and fighting for her life quickly.

At least, that's how it would have been if she didn't have reinforcements in the form of three of her friends at her back.

Spells were shouted and crossbow bolts were shot and before long all of the minion vampires had been dispatched. There had been four more hiding in the trees besides the five that had attacked Buffy, plus the ringleader of the whole operation. He was looking at the four Hogwarts residents nervously, backing away as they advanced on him.

"Can you, you know, forget that this happened?" he asked, holding his hands up in surrender. He looked at each of them in turn before turning and running through the woods, making a huge racket as he did so. Buffy sighed and took aim, throwing her stake like a javelin. It hit its target, the vampire turning to dust fifty feet away.

"Huh, that almost never works," Buffy said, turning her head to the side quizzically. A cough from behind her drew her attention to the three boys who had followed her into the forest. "I guess I can't convince you that that was a mass hallucination or something?"

"No way," Tom said with a snort. "I've already seen you in action. Although I don't know what it means, I'm sure I'll figure it out someday."

"Like you'd be able to," Quentin said with a scoff.

"Are you saying you've figured Buffy out?" Tom asked, arching an eyebrow. "Because I highly doubt someone like _you_ would be able to figure out someone like her."

"And I'm standing right here and if you don't stop it with the male posturing bullcrap I'm going to kick both of your asses the Muggle way," Buffy ground out, narrowing her eyes at them. She looked rather scary at that moment, befitting of her calling even though she was still tiny and blonde.

Both boys stopped arguing, settling on glaring at each other as Buffy watched them to make sure they didn't start fighting. All four of them were quiet until, surprisingly, Hagrid spoke up.

"Those were vampires, weren' they?" he asked. His face was pale and his voice shook a little, but he wasn't cowering and his hands were sure and steady on his crossbow.

"Unfortunately," Buffy replied with a grimace. "Look, is there any way I can convince you guys that this was all some freaky dream and that it didn't happen?"

"'Fraid not, pet," Tom replied. Buffy blinked at him and Quentin glared at him, but Tom seemed to take no notice. "Looks like you're going to have to tell us what's going on whether you like it or not."

"And what if I don't?" Buffy challenged.

"We'll dog you with questions until you do tell us," Tom retorted. "You might be able to withstand the onslaught at first, but even you can't hold us off forever."

"Fine," Buffy replied with a sigh before she turned to Hagrid. "Is this area of the forest safe enough for us to sit and talk for a bit?"

"Safe enough," Hagrid agreed. "Jus' make sure yeh got yer wands on yeh and yeh should be all right."

"Okay, pull up a stump, this might take a while. Crap, Giles was so much better with the 'splainy thing. I'm the brawn, not the brains," Buffy said as the three boys sat down on stumps and logs. "The world is older than you know, and it didn't start off as a paradise like the Bible said it did. For thousands of years demons walked the earth before they decided to leave. The last demon mixed its blood with a human, creating the first vampire. The vampire plague spread across the land, to the point where humans needed a protector. So, a bunch of old men got together and gifted a young girl with the speed, strength and skill to take down the vampires. The first Vampire Slayer. When she died, another was called, and then another and another until finally, the calling got passed down to me."

"You're the Slayer?" Quentin asked, his eyes shining the same way they had when they had been covering vampires in Defence Against the Dark Arts. "But I thought the Slayer was supposed to be a myth?"

"That's what the Watcher's Council wants you to believe," Buffy replied. "Apparently, because you guys can work the mojo you don't need the Slayer hanging around to get rid of the beasties that go bump in the night."

"But why a girl?" Tom asked, curious. "What's the point of giving all of this power to a girl when a man would be better suited to be a protector?"

"Given the choice of a small, defenceless looking girl and a fit young man, who do you think the vampire is going to attack first?" Buffy asked, arching an eyebrow. All three boys remained silent. "Exactly my point. Make the Slayer seem vulnerable and it makes her job so much easier. The vampires and demons come to her. By the time they sense that she _isn't_ the vulnerable midnight snack they thought she was, they're within Slaying distance and poof, dust."

"But why you?" Quentin asked. "How is the Slayer chosen?"

"No idea. Random luck of the crappy draw, I guess," Buffy replied with a shrug.

"But why are you here?" Quentin grilled her. "I mean, shouldn't you be at La Boca del Inferno or something?"

"Hellmouth," Buffy explained when she saw the confused looks from Tom and Hagrid. "And the thing is, well, I died."

"So, you're a zombie?" Tom asked. "Pretty good looking for one of the walking dead, if you ask me. No rotting or anything."

"I'm not a zombie, moron," Buffy replied, resisting the urge to smack him on the back of the head. "I got bitten by a master vampire, blacked out and was tossed face down into a puddle of water. My friend Xander rescued me with mouth-to-mouth. I was dead for maybe thirty seconds at most, but it was enough to call the next one."

"So, you're safe now?" Hagrid asked. "No early death or nothin'?"

"Afraid not," Buffy replied with a sigh. "There's a very real possibility of me dying before I turn twenty."

"And how old were you when you were called?" Tom asked.

"Fifteen," Buffy replied. "It's not uncommon for girls to be called younger. I think it has something to do with onset of puberty. Man, I wish Giles were here. He really was better with the 'splainy thing," Buffy said with a sigh.

"This Giles, is he your Watcher?" Quentin asked.

"You got it," Buffy replied. "Well, my second Watcher. My first one was killed before I moved to Sunnydale. Vampire. It happens a lot around me, unfortunately."

"How can you be so… so… okay with this?" Quentin asked, sounding outraged.

"It's not like I have much of a choice," Buffy shot back. "I didn't choose to be the Slayer. I didn't choose to have my friends die via vampire bite. I didn't _choose_ to have a destiny to die early. Have I accepted the fact that I may die early? Yeah, although it doesn't mean I have to like it. I'm just trying to live as much life as I can for as long as I'm around. If I get lucky, it could mean a very long and fulfilling life. If I'm not, my life will still be fulfilling."

"I suppose that's one way to look at it," Quentin said. "But…"

"Can we not talk about this anymore?" Buffy asked, her voice quiet. "You know what I am and what I do. Or, what I did before I came here. You've seen me do what I do best. I don't think there's anything else we really need to talk about right now. I don't think I need to tell you to keep your mouths shut about this?"

"I'm not going to blab," Quentin said quickly. "I wouldn't trust the snake, though."

"I'll keep yer secret," Hagrid agreed. "Not like I got anyone to tell, anyway."

"Your secret is safe with me, as well," Tom agreed.

"Good, because I'd hate to have to kill you guys," Buffy joked with a smile. None of the others returned it. "Okay, note to self, lay off the death jokes. Now, wasn't there talk about a feast of some kind?"

The weeks flew by after that. Buffy continued to improve in her classes, except for Care of Magical Creatures. Then again, she didn't expect any kind of improvement in that class. Professor Ramsay had thought she was pulling some kind of joke on him when she handed in her wand core creature essay. He'd never heard of vampire blood being used as a wand core, so of course it couldn't have been possible that Buffy's wand had vampire blood in its core. He had, however, written to Mr. Ollivander to make sure that Buffy hadn't been pulling his leg. When he had found out that she hadn't, his mood had turned even more foul towards her, and she was ever so grateful when the Christmas holidays rolled around. Three weeks without Professor Ramsay was going to be heaven!

Ever since Halloween, Quentin, Hagrid and Tom hadn't mentioned the whole Slayer thing, although they still treated her a little differently. All three of them treated her like she was going to disappear or drop dead randomly at any moment. Considering how she had arrived at the school in the first place it wasn't entirely impossible, but they didn't know that. While Hagrid and Quentin being nice wasn't odd in and of itself, Tom was being just as, if not more nice than the other two boys. It was really beginning to freak Buffy out a little. She kind of hoped the Christmas holidays would bring Tom back to his snarky self.

Professor Dumbledore had taken a list of people who were planning on staying at the school during the holidays. Buffy had put her name down as just a formality, because both she and Dumbledore knew that she wasn't going home for the holiday. That she didn't have a home to go to for the holiday. Quentin had kept his word, putting his name down on the list shortly after Buffy had.

"There's still time for you to put your name on the list of people going home," Buffy said one afternoon as she and Quentin were doing their Transfiguration homework. "You really don't have to stay here on account of me."

"And I already told you, I don't mind staying behind," Quentin replied. "No one should be alone at Christmas. Besides, after I told my mum that you were staying over the break because you couldn't go home, she insisted that I stay to keep you company."

"You told your mom about me?" Buffy asked, arching an eyebrow. "All good things, I hope."

"Nothing too incriminating, I assure you," Quentin replied with a grin. "Although don't be surprised if you end up with some presents from her. She does that with all of my friends, but I think you might be special."

"Should I be worried?" Buffy asked.

"Nope," Quentin replied. Buffy waited for him to elaborate, and when he didn't she didn't press him for more information. She glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner, eyes widening when she saw what time it was.

"Crap, I have to go," Buffy said, quickly shoving her books into her bag. "I was supposed to meet Tom ten minutes ago for tutoring."

"When are you going to tell that pillocky git to leave off?" Quentin asked. "I mean, it's not like you need tutoring in Potions anymore. You're doing so well that I'm certain that you'll do fine on your exams in the spring. You've been getting Exceeds Expectations on all of your homework assignments."

"Because Tom looks them over and tells me what I've done wrong and where to find the correct answers," Buffy retorted. "I wouldn't be doing nearly as well as I am now if I didn't have that kind of support. Maybe after Christmas I'll see about cutting down the tutoring sessions a bit, but I just don't feel comfortable handing in an assignment or doing a potion without him there to guide me through it."

"Well, as long as that's all you're doing down there," Quentin said with a sigh. He glanced up at the clock. "You should probably get going. Wouldn't want one of those snakes pounding on the door, trying to get in or anything like that."

Buffy sighed but said nothing else as she slung her bag over her shoulder and headed out of the common room, waving at Quentin one last time as she did so. She hurried out of the portrait hole and headed down to the dungeons, taking a hidden staircase behind a tapestry that was a direct route to four floors below. She reached the dungeons without incident, and she only hoped that Tom wouldn't be too mad at her for being late.

"You're late," Tom said, glancing up from the book he was reading.

"Sorry," Buffy replied. "I got carried away with the whole study session thing."

"Understandable," Tom said. "Do you need me to look over your assignment for Potions or can we get right to the brewing?"

"Brewing would be of the good," Buffy replied. "I don't wanna look at that essay again for a while. It's making my brain hurt."

"Fair enough," Tom said before grabbing a book and opening it to a page he had already marked. "We'll be doing a Shrinking Solution tonight. It's a fourth year potion, but I want to see if you can brew it all on your own without my assistance."

"You just want to see me blow up a cauldron, don't you?" Buffy asked with a snort as she took note of the ingredients and supplies required for the concoction she was about to brew. It was much like their first tutoring session; a lower level potion that Buffy was supposed to brew on her own, only this time she had the feeling that she wasn't going to get any kind of help from Tom unless she was at risk of blowing up her cauldron.

"I doubt you'll blow anything up, Buffy," Tom replied. "You haven't managed to do it yet, even in class, and those potions are much more complex than the ones we do here."

"Yeah, but on those ones I'm not going in solo," Buffy retorted. "I've got a decent partner slash tutor helping me out."

"I'm just a decent partner?" Tom asked with an arched eyebrow as Buffy came back to the table, arms full of jars of icky things that were soon to be tossed into her cauldron. She said nothing about Tom's remark, choosing to remain silent.

A somewhat awkward silence descended on them as Buffy brewed and Tom observed. It had gone like this since the big reveal after the Quidditch match; awkward silences that neither of them seemed to want to acknowledge.

At least, until now. Buffy was getting fed up with the wary glances thrown her way, by not just Tom but Quentin and Hagrid as well. She was quite certain that out of the three of them, Tom would be the one who would be most likely to ask his questions, even if Quentin was much more eager to know about the Slayer.

"'Kay, I know you have all kinds of questions, so spill," Buffy said suddenly when her potion was about halfway finished. She looked up from her potion and sat back on her stool, taking in Tom's surprised expression. "Don't look at me like that. You and I both know you have a burning desire to know all of my secrets, so get with the asking so things can go back to how they were."

"I doubt things will ever go back to the way they were," Tom said as he sat back, surveying Buffy for a moment, as if studying her. She shifted in her seat in discomfort, not used to being studied so intensely. Finally, he spoke. "What's it like to die?"

Of all the questions Buffy had expected, one about her death definitely hadn't been on the list. She blinked at him a few times, trying to formulate something that could be considered coherent.

"Well, I wasn't dead for very long," Buffy replied with a shrug. "First there was pain because I'd been bitten, then everything went black before waking up like Sleeping Beauty. The kiddie version, not the original version."

"I don't ever want to die," Tom said thoughtfully. "And I'm not going to. I don't care of witches and wizards are supposed to live longer than Muggles. I'm going to live forever!"

"Everyone dies some day, Tom," Buffy said carefully. She didn't like where this conversation was going. She hoped he didn't want to become a vampire; Slaying her friends was high on the "Stuff Buffy Finds Fun" list. "Even old, strong vampires and long lived demons die eventually."

"But they get killed by the Slayer, though," Tom reasoned. "I'm going to be strong and immortal and no one will be able to stop me then."

"Why does this feel like one of those times where the villain reveals his cunning, evil plan to the hero before said villain kills said hero in an elaborate set-up?" Buffy asked idly, staring into space a little.

"Huh?" Tom asked. As fascinating as Buffy was, sometimes he had problems following her train of thought. Like now.

"What happened to all of the smart wordage?" Buffy asked. "I don't think I've ever heard you use 'huh'."

"I must be tired or something," Tom said with an obviously fake yawn. "Do you mind if we leave our session here? I don't think I can concentrate much longer."

"Yeah, sure, that's fine," Buffy replied, wondering how stupid Tom thought she was. It would give her something to think about over Christmas, without Tom around to distract her.

Christmas holidays were upon them a week later, and roughly a quarter of the students stayed at the castle. To Buffy's surprise, Tom had stayed behind as well. It was then that she realized that she knew next to nothing about her Potions tutor, something she vowed to remedy after the holidays were over. Possibly sooner, but it looked like Tom was enjoying his time with the Slytherins that had stayed behind for the holidays, and she was certain she'd be as welcome as ants at a picnic at their table, given that she was a Gryffindor and all.

The teachers hadn't set too much work over the holidays, and Quentin had insisted that they get their work done as soon as possible, so that they would have plenty of time to have fun during the rest of their time off. They spent their days mostly playing wizarding games; Quentin had insisted on teaching her the staples: Gobstones, Exploding Snap and Wizard's Chess. He had even convinced her to brave the cold and have a snowball fight with him, although the fun had been sucked out of that pretty quickly once Quentin realized that he was getting his ass handed to him by a girl.

Soon Christmas Eve dinner was upon them and the remaining students were heading to the Great Hall for a feast. The students and faculty had been sitting at one extra-long table for meals during the holidays, although the students usually stayed within their own friend groups and didn't mingle.

Buffy tried to cross the threshold of the Great Hall at the same time as Tom. They were both relatively early; only a few people were at the table so far and people were trickling in one by one. Quentin was still in Gryffindor Tower; he had fallen asleep on one of the couches in the common room and had told Buffy to head down to dinner without him so that he could straighten himself up. Buffy supposed that he had heard her stomach rumbling and didn't want to keep her from the feast.

She smiled at Tom and he smiled back as they both tried to take another step to enter the Great Hall. The odd thing was, they couldn't. Both of them looked down at their feet curiously, trying to move and finding that their feet were somehow magically glued to the floor. A small giggle from the Great Hall alerted them.

"It's magical mistletoe!" a little second year seated at the end of the table said with another giggle. "You're gonna have to kiss before you can sit down to dinner."

Buffy cursed under her breath. Somehow, she knew this was Dumbledore's doing, although she was sure that the Gryffindor Head of House had something to do with this. Magical mistletoe was definitely one of those things Dumbledore would find a sick sense of amusement from. She turned her attention to Tom, who was quirking an eyebrow at her in question. She shrugged and leaned in. Taking the hint, Tom closed the distance and Buffy pecked him on the lips, breaking the spell.

"Buffy!" Quentin said as the charm was broken and she and Tom were able to move again. "What's going on here?"

"Magical mistletoe, I had no choice," Buffy replied with a shrug, looping her arm with Quentin's. "Come on, I think there's some roast beef and Yorkshires on the table tonight."

Brightening at the thought of his favourite dish, Quentin momentarily forgot about the scene that he had stumbled upon, although it wasn't for long. Soon he was questioning her about what he had walked in on and Buffy maintained that it was the magical mistletoe. If she hadn't kissed Tom, she would have been stuck in the doorway. He tried to insinuate that she and Tom had planned it so that they could kiss in public without garnering undue attention. One glare from Buffy had Quentin cowering in his chair and that was the end of that.

The rest of dinner passed without incident and Buffy left before Quentin, wanting to make an early night of it. Quentin waved her on, mouth full of pie and whipped cream. Smiling and shaking her head, Buffy left the Great Hall, heading back up to Gryffindor Tower alone.

At least, that was her plan.

Almost as soon as she had exited the Hall, someone grabbed her arm in a firm grip and pulled her into an alcove. She fought, hitting anything she could reach until she heard a familiar voice.

"Shh, shh. Merlin, you fight like a hellcat," Tom said, his voice full of amusement.

"What's with the grabbing and the dragging?" Buffy hissed, narrowing her eyes. The alcove was light enough that she could see him smirking. "What part of Slayers hit first and ask questions later don't you understand?"

"I didn't think I'd ever get you away from that git," Tom replied. He wrapped an arm around her waist, drawing her closer to him.

"What in the frilly heck do you think you're doing?" Buffy asked, although she didn't really feel the urge to push him away.

"You call that thing you did back there a kiss?" Tom asked. "_This_ is a proper kiss."

He bent down slightly and his lips hovered over Buffy's for a moment before he closed the distance between them. Buffy's eyes fluttered shut and she let him kiss her. It wasn't like any of the boys she had kissed at Hemery, and it definitely wasn't like Angel. Still dangerous and somewhat forbidden, but none of the urgency or desperation there had been with Angel.

It was… nice, she supposed.

Before she could really get into it, though, Tom drew away and, with a smirk full of promises, he withdrew from the alcove and headed towards the dungeons, leaving Buffy to wonder what was going on, and what the hell would happen next.

**So there, we have some more smoochies. I'm not quite sure if I entirely like this chapter, so feedback would be appreciated. Kiss scenes have never been my forte, even though I was somehow able to write an explicit Harry/Draco shower scene six years ago.**

**Some people have asked how long this story is going to be. Since I'm certain that the people who vocalized their questions are not the only people who have them, I'm going to give you all an answer and hopefully put to rest any concerns people might have over the length of this thing is going to be.**

**The short answer is this: I don't know. **

**The long answer: I have lots of stuff that I need to cover before I can tack "The End" onto the bottom of the page. Even then, there's still the sequel to think about. If you want a word count figure, I can see this clocking in at 100k, easily. I can't give you number of chapters, and I'm definitely not going to give anyone details of what exactly I'm going to deal with now, or in the sequel.**

**Anyway, reviews and comments are appreciated, flames will be used to toast marshmallows. Thanks for reading.**


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

_Okay, what the frack was that?_ Buffy thought as she watched Tom leave, exiting the alcove soon after once she had made sure the coast was clear. She didn't want to give the Hogwarts rumour mill any more fuel than it already had, although she was certain that there wasn't anything in there about her. If there was, her friend would have told her if she hadn't heard it herself.

"I thought you were heading up to the common room?" Quentin said, spotting her as he exited the Great Hall.

"I – ah – thought I saw something and needed to make with the Slayage," Buffy replied quickly.

"Like Dippet would let anything needing, er, Slayage into the castle," Quentin said, narrowing his eyes slightly.

"Some of the biggest, baddest beasties aren't let into anywhere," Buffy replied. "Magic can only stop so much."

Quentin looked nearly scandalized at the prospect that magic couldn't stop everything. Sighing, Buffy rolled her eyes at him but didn't say anything.

"Come on, it's Christmas Eve. Let's not talk about goblins and ghoulies and demons," she said, linking her arm in his again.

"You're the one who brought it up," Quentin retorted as they headed back up to Gryffindor tower together.

"And now I'm changing the subject," Buffy shot back. "Come on, you have to be excited about presents tomorrow morning."

"Aren't you?" Quentin asked.

"Hard to be excited about something you're not expecting," Buffy replied as they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady. She gave the password, and before Quentin could ask her about her remark, she bid him good night and headed up to the girls' dormitory, where he would be unable to follow.

Buffy woke the next morning to the sound of the windows rattling in the wind; it sounded like a hell of a storm was brewing. She sighed and stretched; although she had planned on sleeping late and mostly avoiding the holiday cheer, it looked like she was going to be up at the crack of dawn like everyone else. Since she had no family except for her housemates, she didn't want to inflict any depressing feelings she may have on anyone she might come into contact with.

As she stretched, her feet hit something at the end of the bed, and it wasn't her footboard. Sitting up, she was surprised to find a rather small, but no less real, pile of brightly wrapped gifts at the end of the bed. Curious, she scooted to the end of the bed and sat cross legged, reading some of the gift tags. Minerva, Augusta, Terrence, Terrence's little brother Algie (even though she'd never actually formally met him), Quentin, Camille (Quentin's mother) and a small one that didn't have an external tag. She saved that one for last.

Quentin and Minerva had both given her books; Quentin, a copy of _The Slayer Mythology_ and Minerva, a copy of _Hogwarts, A History_. Terrence, Augusta and Algie had all gotten her various Honeyduke's sweets, which made Buffy a very happy camper. The gift from Quentin's mother put a smile on her face; a hand knit scarf, a tin of home made cookies and an invitation to spend some time with Quentin and his family over the summer if she had no other plans.

This left the rather small box with no tag. It sat in front of her, wrapped in silver paper with a green ribbon; it was quite obvious what house the person giving her this gift was from. It didn't give off any 'evil' vibes as she picked it up and shook it. She was pretty sure who it was from; she was friendly with only one Slytherin, after all. Carefully, Buffy tore open the wrapping paper and was greeted with a plain white box. Opening it, she found a delicate charm bracelet with several charms already attached, and a note. Gingerly picking it up, Buffy opened it and was greeted with a short letter in a familiar, spidery script.

_Dear Buffy,_

_I hope your Christmas is a good one. Professor Slughorn is having a small gathering of a few select students in the New Year before term starts up again. I would be honoured if one of the prettiest girls in Hogwarts would accompany me._

_Let me know as soon as you can._

_Yours,_

_Tom M. Riddle._

_PS: I hope you like your present. I thought something somewhat personalized would stand out amongst the copious amounts of sweets that will doubtlessly find their way into your stack of gifts._

_T.M.R._

After carefully placing the note onto the pile of presents on her bed, Buffy picked up the bracelet and examined it. It was mainly a semi-fine silver chain with a few delicate charms on it. The letters "B" and "S", a lion and a cross in silver, and a heart in gold. It was small enough that she would be able to wear it without the bracelet garnering too much attention if it slipped out from underneath her shirt sleeve. As she fastened the bracelet on her wrist, she had a question running through her head.

Should she say yes to Tom's invitation? And if she did, what should she wear?

It wasn't like she could ask any of her friends to borrow their clothes. After all, her friends didn't like Tom, couldn't stand him, really, and would definitely not be agreeable to her going to a party, even as friends, with him. Maybe she could transfigure one of her school uniforms into a dress for the night? If she got started now and practiced enough she'd probably be able to manage something; after all, Dumbledore had said she had a bit of a talent for Transfiguration and transfiguring clothing couldn't be too difficult, could it? She supposed she might have to head to the library for a little bit of research.

The question was, would she be able to spend a little bit of time in the library without Quentin asking too many questions? With the weather being as it was, Buffy was sure she wouldn't have too difficult of a time trying to convince Quentin she didn't want to have a snowball fight after all.

With that thought on her mind, Buffy put on a dressing robe over her pyjamas – Gryffindor red, the whole lot of it, because Dumbledore seemed to think she needed to show off her house alliances even in her sleepwear, apparently – and grabbed the tin of chocolate chip cookies before heading down to the common room, fully prepared of having a breakfast of junk food goodness.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Buffy wasn't surprised to see Quentin already there, curled up on one of the best couches in the common room in front of the fire. She'd never seen him in his pyjamas before and tried very hard not to giggle when she saw that his pyjamas and dressing gown were matching plaid. While she really couldn't talk because her pyjamas and dressing gown also matched, the plaid just seemed that much more amusing.

"Morning," Quentin greeted, sounding a little sleepy.

"Morning yourself," Buffy replied as she flopped down next to him and opened the cookie tin and offered it to him. "Cookie?"

"For breakfast?" Quentin asked, although he grabbed a cookie anyway. "My mum sent you these, didn't she?"

"What was your fist clue?" Buffy asked.

"Well, for one I know my mum's cookies," Quentin replied, taking a bite and swallowing before continuing. "And two, I recognize that cookie tin. What else did she give you?"

"A handmade scarf and an invitation to spend some time with your family over the summer if I can," Buffy replied. "Thank you for the book, by the way. Where in the world did you get it?"

"It, er, came from my personal collection, actually," Quentin replied, a pale pink flush spreading across his cheeks. "I've always liked vampires and I came across the Slayer myth when I was a child. I had to know more, of course, and I was able to find that book in the back of an old used bookstore in Diagon Alley just before I started Hogwarts. I thought you might appreciate it; I've already memorized the thing so it's not like I need it anymore."

"And that thanks goes for double, now," Buffy said with a grateful smile, before something occurred to her. She glanced around and listened for a few moments, making sure that no one was there to overhear them, before she continued. "You don't want to be a Watcher, do you?"

"Well, when I thought the Slayer was just a myth, no," Quentin replied. "But now that I know the Slayer isn't a myth, I kind of want to search out the Watcher's Council just to see if being a Watcher is for me."

"Are you sure you'd be able to do it?" Buffy asked, curious. Quentin struck her as the kind of person who would get attached to his Slayer if he ever got one to train, and she wasn't sure if he'd be able to handle it if she died.

"What do you mean?" Quentin asked, puzzled. "Isn't it a lot of demonology research and looking at musty old books?"

"Most of the time, yeah," Buffy replied. "But then there are the Watchers that get to train a Slayer or a Potential. Do you think you'd be able to train someone from a really young age with the prospect that she might be called as a Slayer and won't live for six months after that? Most Slayers die within the first year or so of being Called; I've been lucky."

"I never thought of it that way," Quentin said, quietly. "Life's been hard for you, hasn't it?"

"A bit," Buffy replied. "But it's not all bad. I've got something that very few Slayers in the past had. I've got friends, both here and in California. Not only that, I've got three best friends I'd do practically anything for."

"Oh yeah?" Quentin asked. "That's nice to hear."

"You do know that one of those best friends is you, right?" Buffy asked.

"Really?" Quentin asked. Buffy nodded. "Then that's really nice to hear."

Just then, the wind rattled the common room windows, drawing their attention to the raging wind and swirling snow outside.

"Er, Buffy?" Quentin asked after he caught a glimpse of the raging storm outside.

"Yes, Quentin?" Buffy replied, munching on another cookie.

"You know how you asked me if I wanted to have another snowball fight this afternoon?" he asked. Buffy nodded. "D'you think we could reschedule it or something? I don't fancy dying of exposure out there."

"That's okay, I have to make with the research anyway," Buffy replied. "No big deal."

"This isn't for school, is it?" Quentin asked, curious. "Because I thought you got all of your homework done early on."

"No, this is definitely a personal project. I just want to see if something can be done," Buffy replied.

"Do you need any help?" Quentin asked, his curiosity piqued.

"I'll let you know if I can't find something," Buffy replied, not really wanting to give away her idea just yet. She didn't want to deal with any questions until later. Much later. Maybe not even at all.

"Do you want to head down to the library now?" Quentin asked. "Because I wanted to look for some new reading material anyway."

"Too early," Buffy replied, wrinkling her nose. If it hadn't been for the storm outside and the flimsy windows, Buffy would still be asleep. "Besides, don't you think we'd get some funny looks 'cause we're still in our jammies?"

"Good point," Quentin replied, snagging another cookie.

"Hey, get your own!" Buffy exclaimed, snatching the tin away.

"But mine are upstairs in my room," Quentin replied with a pout. "I promise I'll share mine when I bring them down."

Sighing and rolling her eyes, Buffy handed over the tin of cookies and they shared the entire tin between the two of them over the course of the morning.

It wasn't until the next morning that Buffy was able to make it to the library. She went alone; Quentin was complaining of a stomach ache, probably from the copious amounts of cookies for breakfast and the humungous Christmas dinner. Buffy was feeling rather heavy as well, but she was also bound and determined to see if she would be able to transfigure her school uniform into something more party appropriate.

When she reached the library around mid morning, Buffy made a beeline for the Transfiguration section, once she was able to find it. As she perused the books, she spotted one that might be able to help her out with her clothing dilemma. As she picked it up, she felt someone familiar nearby. Closing her eyes and stretching her senses, she tried to figure out who it was. Different people made her senses act differently, and she was just beginning to differentiate between all of the different feelings. Finally certain that she had the right person, she smirked slightly to herself before speaking.

"I know you're there, Tom, so you can stop with the sneaky," she said, holding back the laughter when she heard something that could only be described as a whine from the next aisle over. She waited, listening to his footsteps until he came around the corner.

"How did you know it was me?" Tom asked, curious, as he approached.

"I had a feeling," Buffy replied with a shrug. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask the same of you," Tom retorted.

"I beat you to the punch," Buffy shot back. "So make with the 'splainy."

"I followed you," Tom replied.

"Woah, stalker much?" Buffy asked.

"Has anyone ever told you that you talk funny?" Tom asked, curious.

"Look at it from my perspective. You _all _talk funny," Buffy retorted, resisting the urge to stick her tongue out at him. "Fess up, stalker-boy. Why are you being all… er… stalker-y."

"You have a way with words, pet," Tom said with a grin. "I followed you because I wanted to make sure you weren't meeting that pillock."

"I wish you wouldn't call my best friend names," Buffy said with a sigh.

"Like he doesn't call me worse," Tom retorted with a snort.

"You're right, he does," Buffy said, and Tom smirked smugly. "But I give him hell about it."

"You like me, don't you?" Tom asked suddenly.

"Well, I don't want you dead in a ditch," Buffy replied. "I told you, I'm not sure what you are to me."

"Have you thought about my invitation?" Tom asked.

"The one to Slughorn's party?" Buffy asked.

"How many invitations have you gotten to go out, woman?" Tom asked, narrowing his eyes in suspicion.

"That's something for me to know and you to find out," Buffy retorted with a smirk.

"I think you're bluffing," Tom said, his eyes still narrowed.

"Can't have you thinking you're getting everything handed to you," Buffy said. She was enjoying this, making Tom squirm a little. Served the cocky bastard right; he needed to be taken down a peg or three anyway. She'd heard what he had been like, and while she was glad he wasn't acting like that for the time being, she wasn't so naïve to think that he would stay that way.

"But I always get what I want," Tom said, and gone was the playful flirting and in its place was an intense, lusty look that made Buffy blush.

"You keep believing that and maybe one day it'll come true," Buffy replied, trying to keep her voice light. Tom smirked before swooping in, planting a searing kiss on her before he turned and left her in the middle of the library, wondering what was going on.

"I'll meet you in the Entrance Hall at seven thirty on the thirty-first," Tom said with a smile before turning and leaving Buffy standing in the middle of the Transfiguration section of the library holding a book with fashion transfiguration.

"Seriously, what the frack?" Buffy asked to no one before she shook her head and headed to the check out desk, hoping that the book would be able to help her in her plight.

Somehow, Buffy was able to transfigure one of her school uniforms into something that was a little more party appropriate, just in the nick of time, too. She was sure that if it hadn't been for the extra tutoring from Minerva and her own natural aptitude for the subject she might not have succeeded.

As she left the common room on New Year's eve dressed in a grey, cowl neck sweater dress, black wool tights from her uniform and her boots that she had arrived in – the house elves had deemed it time to return them, she supposed, and she definitely wasn't complaining. She knew that she looked good, and hoped that she was dressed up enough. Almost everything was perfect, there was just one more thing to do.

She had to get past Quentin without him asking too many questions about where she was going.

So far, Buffy had had a pretty easy time of keeping Quentin in the dark about her plans for New Year's. She never brought it up and neither did he, and he was busy reading some of the books he had received for Christmas that he didn't really notice when Buffy disappeared for an hour or two at a time to get her outfit ready for the party. She felt a little bad that she was keeping this from him, but she also knew that he would try to convince her not to go because of who had invited her.

Quentin had still been in the Great Hall when Buffy slipped away to get ready for her night out. It had been easy enough; he still had a huge pile of food in front of him and had only vaguely waved good bye when Buffy told him that she wanted to head back to her room to read. Tom had smiled knowingly when he had heard this, and it took all of her willpower not to smack him on the back of the head as she passed by him, lest she raise everyone's suspicions. She shuddered at the thought of how the rumour mill would react if it ever got out that Buffy Summers, Gryffindor darling, had went on a date with the Slytherin Prince.

Not that she cared. Not really. Okay, maybe a little.

She was dressed and done up and on her way out when a wrench was thrown into her plans. Quentin had come back to Gryffindor Tower earlier than Buffy had expected; he was entering and she was exiting.

"I thought you said you were going back to your room to read?" Quentin asked, eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion.

"Thought I'd head down to the library a bit, pick up something else," Buffy replied. In preparation for something like this, Buffy had worn her school robe over her dress.

"I'll come with you," Quentin said quickly. "There was some Defence Against the Dark Arts research I wanted to do."

"I thought you finished all of your Defence work?" Buffy asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Extra research," Quentin replied with a shrug.

"Are you sure the Hat didn't want to put you in Ravenclaw?" Buffy shot back. "'Cause you know, you're all with the excessive studying."

"What about you?" Quentin retorted. "You've been spending way too much time in the library as of late. Is there anything you want to tell me?"

"I'm cramming five years of education on top of the stuff I have to learn this year. I'm surprised I'm not practically living there," Buffy said, crossing her arms across her chest. "Do you think I'm hiding something from you?"

"Well, you've been kind of secretive lately," Quentin replied. "I mean, hiding in your room, spending tons of time in the library, or so you claim. How do I know you're not secretly off meeting someone?"

"And what if I am?" Buffy asked.

"I don't know," Quentin replied, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "I guess I'd be a little upset that you're hiding something so big from me. We're supposed to be best friends."

They were still standing half in the portrait hole, Buffy on her way out and Quentin on his way in. If they weren't careful, a student from another house would come by and see exactly where the Gryffindor common room. While some students, like Prefects and the Head Boy and Girl knew where the other houses were located in case of an emergency, it wasn't common knowledge for the majority of the students.

"I know, and we are," Buffy said. "Look, can we cool off a bit and talk about this later? I don't want to have this turn into a screaming match because we're acting all crazy."

"Agreed. But you better make with the 'splainy, and do it quick," Quentin replied, before groaning. "You're becoming a bad influence on me. Maybe a little bit of time apart would be a good thing."

"Thank goodness I was going to go out for a walk anyway," Buffy said with a small smile. "I'll see you in the morning, okay?"

"Yeah, see you in the morning," Quentin agreed. They passed by each other in the portrait hole, Buffy leaving and Quentin entering. It wasn't until she heard the portrait of the Fat Lady click shut that she took off her Gryffindor robe, revealing the outfit. The charm bracelet jingled slightly as she walked, quickly, to the Entrance Hall, hoping that Tom hadn't thought she was going to stand him up, even though she hadn't actually said she would go with him.

"I was beginning to think you weren't going to show up," Tom said with a smirk as she made her way down the last staircase leading to the Entrance Hall. She crossed the Hall and reached Tom's side in no time. "Did someone have to make excuses to the boyfriend to keep him from being suspicious?"

"He's not my boyfriend," Buffy retorted.

"But you did have to make excuses," Tom said. "Are you ashamed of the fact that you're going to a party with me?"

"Aren't you ashamed of me?" Buffy asked. "Gryffindors and Slytherins don't associate as a rule."

"Ah, but Slytherins always strive to be and have the best," Tom replied. "And you are the best, despite the fact that you're a Gryffindor."

"I feel so loved," Buffy said sarcastically with a roll of her eyes. "So, what's this shindig all about? Some of your Slytherin friends getting together for some good old fashioned end of the year rowdiness?"

"Not quite," Tom replied with a chuckle. "Have you heard of the Slug Club?"

Of course she had heard of the Slug Club; it was Hogwarts' worst kept secret. A group of elite students would meet with Professor Slughorn once in a while, regular meetings and parties during various holidays. Obviously, Buffy wasn't a member; she didn't know what the requirements were to become a member of the Slug Club, but she was sure that if Slughorn knew her little secret she'd be invited, no questions, but that wasn't something she was going to use her status as Slayer for. The fewer people who knew, the safer Hogwarts would be.

"Yeah, I know about it," Buffy replied. "This is one of those parties, isn't it?"

"Yes," Tom replied. "If you don't want to go, that's fine. Although you definitely look ravishing enough to fit right in."

"Um, thank you?" Buffy said. The compliment was a little backhanded, just like most of the ones he gave her, but decided to ignore it, for now. Ass kicking could come later if need be; he might be bigger than her, but she could still easily take him if the wands were tossed to the side. And, if she got close enough, wands _would_ be tossed to the side.

"Let's head down to the dungeons already, I'm sure Slughorn will be wondering where I ran off to," Tom remarked as he offered his arm to her. She took it, and together they headed down to the dungeons. "You know, that dress is quite fetching. Wherever did you find the time to procure it?"

"I'm handy with a wand," Buffy replied with a small smile, before the words ran through her personal filter. When they did, she realized how naughty they sounded and hoped that Tom didn't catch on to it.

"I bet you are," Tom murmured and Buffy blushed as they approached the dungeon room. Loud, happy voices were issuing from it and even though they were in the dungeons it was lit brightly by many candles and wall sconces.

"Ah, Tom my boy, so glad you could make it," Slughorn said, approaching as they entered. "And the delightful Miss Summers, such a surprise to see you. I would have thought you went home for the holidays."

"I wish I could have, but it was just easier for me to stay at the castle this year," Buffy replied, wondering for the first time how they were going to deal with the fact that she wouldn't be going home for the summer holidays, either. It was definitely something she needed to discuss with Dumbledore, but that could wait until the winter term started up. Right now, the only thing she had on her mind this evening was having fun. "Tom was kind enough to ask me to accompany him to this party so I wouldn't be lonely."

"That's my Tom, always thinking of others," Slughorn said jovially. "Have a pleasant evening, you two."

Slughorn wandered off, leaving Tom and Buffy to fend for themselves. He led Buffy over to a small refreshment table; pumpkin juice and butterbeer were offered, as were some finger foods. Since most of the people at the party had been at dinner earlier in the evening, there wasn't a lot of food there, but enough to keep the belly rumbling at bay.

"Pumpkin juice or butterbeer?" Tom asked, gesturing to the table of drinks.

"Butterbeer, definitely," Buffy replied. She honestly couldn't stand pumpkin juice, having tried it early on and finding that she really couldn't stomach it. She definitely thought pumpkins should be kept in pies.

"Two butterbeers it is, then," Tom said, grabbing two and handing one of them to her before he led them to where several sixth and seventh years were sitting. Tom sat down on a squishy armchair and patted his lap, indicating that he wanted Buffy to sit on it.

"I don't think so," Buffy replied with a smile as she perched on the arm of his chair, seeing as there were no other seats nearby and she didn't know anyone else in the room.

Even though Buffy didn't know anyone in the room, they obviously knew who she was. At least, what house she was in if the sideways glances she and Tom got were any indication. After all, it was very strange to see a Gryffindor and a Slytherin sitting together and getting along. After everyone got used to the idea of a Gryffindor and Slytherin getting along, and even enjoying each other's company, the atmosphere relaxed and everyone was having a good time.

Everything was normal until the clock began chiming at midnight. What happened next would give the rumour mill tons to work with once the gossips caught wind of it.

As the clock struck midnight, Tom got a devilish smirk on his face, and before Buffy could stop him he looped an arm around her waist and pulled her into his lap.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Buffy hissed as he clamped his arms around her waist to ensure that she wouldn't be able to escape. She stole a glance at the other people in the room; everyone else were either wrapped up in their own conversations or engaging in a customary New Year's kiss.

"What do you think I'm doing?" Tom asked, arching an eyebrow. "I don't know how you do it over in the colonies, but over here it's customary to kiss someone when the clock strikes midnight on New Year's Eve."

He leaned in and Buffy's eyes fluttered closed as their lips met yet again. Assuming it would be a small peck of a kiss, Buffy started to pull away, only to find Tom's fingers in her hair as he pulled her back to him. Lips crashed together and soon it was more than a kiss, with lips and tongues and fingers running through hair. Tom was well on his way to looking thoroughly mussed and Buffy on her way to being thoroughly snogged when someone threw a balled up napkin at them. Breaking apart, they saw a seventh year, Buffy thought he was in Ravenclaw, smirking at them.

"There's a difference between a New Year's kiss and all out snogging," he said. "Get a room, you two."

Buffy blushed and Tom smirked as the Ravenclaw boy sauntered away. The party was beginning to wind down; people were leaving, saying good bye to Professor Slughorn and grabbing a couple of nibbles on the way out.

"Should we take his advice?" Tom asked, waggling his eyebrows slightly.

"What advice?" Buffy returned, playing innocent.

"Getting a room, of course," Tom replied saucily.

"What kind of girl do you think I am?" Buffy shot back in mock outrage, smacking him on the arm a little harder than what could be considered playful.

"Well, you're sitting on my lap and were well on your way to being snogged thoroughly before Tyler distracted us," Tom replied matter-of-factly.

"Only because you practically grabbed me and lip raped me," Buffy retorted, although a small, silly smile was playing on her lips.

"I didn't see you complaining a few minutes ago," Tom said with a smirk. "But I think it's time for us to head back to our dormitories. It's getting rather late and you need your beauty sleep."

"Are you calling me ugly?" Buffy asked as she extracted herself from Tom's lap before offering him a hand to help him out of the depths of the chair.

"No, you're beautiful, but if want to stay beautiful you need your sleep," Tom replied as he wrapped an arm around Buffy's waist. "Thank you, Professor Slughorn, it was an excellent party."

Buffy held back a snicker at that remark as they left the room where the party was held. As soon as they were out in the dark dungeon corridor, Buffy tried to distance herself from Tom, but he held tight.

"Don't you want me to walk you to Gryffindor?" Tom asked, arching an eyebrow. "It's after curfew, you know, and if you get caught by someone else I'd hate for you to lose house points or get a detention."

"Okay, fine," Buffy said with a long-suffering sigh. "I'm only letting you do this because I don't want to get a detention. No other reason."

"Sure, sure," Tom said as he led them out of the dungeon and up into the main castle.

The walk to Gryffindor was a quiet one; they didn't meet anyone on their way up to the seventh floor and the corridors were eerily quiet. It wasn't long at all before they were standing in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady, who was dozing in her frame.

"Well, I guess this is good night," Buffy said as she tried to escape Tom's grasp again. He still held on tight, turning her so that they were facing each other. "What do you think you're doing now?"

"Giving you a proper good night kiss, of course," Tom replied, bending down to leave a small, almost chaste kiss on her lips. Buffy met him, standing on her tiptoes and wrapping her arms around his neck. All too soon, the kiss was over and Buffy was back on her feet. "You looked very pretty tonight."

"Thank you," Buffy replied as Tom finally released her, stepping away. "Good night."

"'Night," Tom said with a small smile as he turned and left. Buffy waited until he was out of earshot before she woke up the Fat Lady.

"Where have you been?" she asked, a little grumpy.

"At a party," Buffy replied before she gave her the password. The portrait opened and Buffy entered the common room, heading to her dormitory right away. She could transfigure her dress back into one of her uniforms in the morning.

**Chapter seventeen for your reading pleasure, folks. I know the relationship is moving a little fast, but that will take a bit of a backseat in the next chapter.**

**For those who are wondering when I'm going to be updating Slayer Shinigami, I'm trying to catch up on the anime and will be updating sometime after that. Hopefully by next week, but I'm making no promises.**

**As always, praise is appreciated, constructive criticism is always sought after and flames will be used to roast marshmallows.**


	18. Chapter 18

**PLEASE NOTE: A small correction has been made, but it's nothing that will change the flow of the story. Back in Chapter 2, I had originally said that Buffy had come from 1999. Upon further research, I realized that Season 2 actually took place in 1998. That change has been made and the date of Buffy's birthday is correct, or close enough, at least.**

Chapter 18

The other students returned on Sunday just in time for classes to start up again. As far as Buffy knew, Quentin and the school gossips had no idea what she had been up to on New Year's Eve and she hoped that it stayed that way for a while.

By this point, Buffy had enough magical knowledge that she could probably get by in her classes on her own, but her tutors wouldn't let her go that easily. She made plans to meet with each of her tutors once a week still, but her sessions were much shorter and were mostle limited to making sure her homework was correct.

This progress made Buffy acutely aware of how long she had been at Hogwarts and how there hadn't been any progress in sending her home. She had no news from Dumbledore or Dippet on that front; she didn't even know if they were researching means to send her home. She had been so busy trying to survive classes, school politics and keeping up with her friends that it never really occurred to her to be more proactive. If she were honest with herself, this would indicate that she was becoming comfortable at Hogwarts, and while it was nice she was really beginning to miss Sunnydale.

The no news was good news thing ended now.

As she sat down to breakfast before classes, the owl post flew overhead. Not expecting to get mail that morning, or any morning really, Buffy was surprised when a large brown barn owl landed in front of her.

"What have you got there?" Quentin asked as Buffy carefully removed the letter from the owl's leg.

"No idea," she replied, breaking the wax seal – the Hogwarts crest – and extracted the letter from the envelope as the own ate some of her corn flakes before it took off again.

_Dear Miss Summers,_

_Professor Dippet and I wish to speak to you about your future at Hogwarts. Please meet us in my office after breakfast this morning. You will be excused from Potions and I will provide you a note if you will be late for Charms._

_Yours truly,_

_Professor Dumbledore_

_Deputy Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

_Head of Gryffindor House_

"What did you do?" Quentin asked, reading over Buffy's shoulder. "You're not in trouble, are you? Do they know about, well, y'know?"

"Shh," Buffy hissed, glancing around. It seemed like no one was paying attention to them, but a girl couldn't be too careful. Having Hagrid, Tom, Quentin and Professor Giles know her secret were four people too many, and she really didn't want anyone else to find out. While she had been in Sunnydale she had two other people who knew besides her Watcher, this time she was trying to do the whole secret identity thing right. So far, it wasn't going as well as she had hoped.

"Well, good luck," Quentin said as he got up to head to class. "Will I see you in Potions?"

"Probably not," Buffy replied. "Dumbledore said I'm excused from Potions and will give me a note for Charms if I'm running late for that. Hopefully I won't – I still need all of the Charms help I can get."

"Well, I'll see you in Charms," Quentin said, hitching his bag up onto his shoulder and leaving the Great Hall. Buffy grabbed a muffin and propped her Charms book open on her juice glass, getting as much studying in as she possibly could.

She waited until the vast majority of the other students had vacated the Great Hall before she herself got up and headed up to the seventh floor where Dumbledore's office was, wondering how this meeting was going to go. Part of her hoped that they had found a way to get her back to her own place and time, but another, more practical – some would say pessimistic – part was telling her that she was going to be stuck here for the rest of her short life. Not that it was all horrible; she'd made quite a few good friends and could see herself having some kind of a future in wizarding Britain.

She really needed to know what was going on with this.

The trip to the seventh floor seemed to take forever when in reality it wasn't that long at all. As she reached up to knock on the door, it was flung open by Dumbledore. _How the hell does he do that? _Buffy asked herself, surveying her head of house. His expression was unreadable, and his eyes were not twinkling. This couldn't be good.

"Please, come in, sit by the fire," Dumbledore said, gesturing to the squashy armchairs by the fire at one end of the room. Professor Dippet was also sitting there, his expression also somewhat unreadable as she took a chair facing him, leaving one chair in between them. Was she being kicked out?

"I'm sure you're wondering why you're here, Miss Summers," Dippet began, his voice grave as Dumbledore took a seat in between them.

"I have some ideas, but I think I'll let you explain it," Buffy replied. "So what's the what?"

"We are here to discuss your future at Hogwarts," Dippet continued. He had an exasperated expression on his face, much like Giles did when she butchered the English language. Actually, now that she thought about it, she got that look from nearly everyone. It was good to know that she hadn't lost her touch when it came to annoying stuffy British types. "As you may know, Professor Dumbledore and I have been searching every single resource we have to find a way to get you back to your own time."

_No, actually, I didn't know,_ Buffy remarked silently, but decided to keep her mouth shut as the two old men before her summarized her situation.

"We have exhausted all avenues that we have, and while there are methods to bring you to the future, it is borderline Dark magic and very unstable. We don't want to risk you being torn apart by the magic, no matter how much stronger you are than an average human," Dippet continued.

"What does this mean?" Buffy asked, although the brain cells in her pretty blonde head had already made the connection. She wasn't ever going home again.

"I'm sorry, Miss Summers, but we cannot send you back to your own time," Dippet replied, his voice still grave. "You will, of course, be able to complete your education here at Hogwarts. We will have to arrange for you to take your OWLs at the end of the years with the fifth years to make sure that you have all of the appropriate credentials. Tell me, how old will you be on your next birthday?"

"January 20, 1999 was supposed to be my eighteenth birthday," Buffy replied.

"Well, we're going to have to change some facts about you when we create your records and identification," Dippet said. "We will have to state that you are turning seventeen on your next birthday so that it will be appropriate for you to be in sixth year going into seventh year."

"How are we going to deal with the fact that I'm not heading home for the holidays?" Buffy asked. "I mean, I'm pretty sure my friends already suspect something, seeing as I never hear from my parents and I didn't get anything from them for Christmas."

"Yes, that was yet another thing we wished to discuss with you," Dumbledore said, taking the lead from Dippet. "We needed to find a way for you to immerse yourself into this world, maybe even be adopted into one of the families here at the school. The only way we could think of is to tell everyone that your parents died and that you have no other relatives."

Buffy sat in her chair, silent, as all of the information thrown at her began to really hit her. She wasn't able to go home, ever. While she knew that that had always been a possibility from the moment she realized that she had been thrown into 1943, hearing it out loud was another matter entirely. Even though her mother was still alive, she hoped, having to play it like she were dead seemed like a daunting task at first. After thinking about it, though, she decided that it wouldn't be so difficult after all. She loved her mother, her father too, and the thought of never seeing them again was quite upsetting.

"So, when did they die? How did they die?" Buffy asked. Her voice was quiet, resigned and devoid of any kind of real emotion.

"I beg your pardon?" Dippet asked, a little thrown.

"Well, if we're going to sell this, we need to get some of the details down now so that I have something to tell people when they ask why I wasn't in class this morning," Buffy replied. "So, what's it going to be? Car accident? Grisly murder? House fire? Flesh eating virus? Vampire attack?"

"Your parents are Muggles, correct?" Dumbledore asked. Buffy nodded. "House fire seems most logical, then. It also gets around the fact that you will not be having your possession sent to the school. Don't you agree, Armando?"

"Wha - ? Oh yes, quite," Dippet agreed, speaking as if he had been brought out of his thoughts or something.

"As for timing, I believe having your parents die sometime in December and the news getting to us now would be appropriate, considering the delays of the mystical convergence," Dumbledore mused, stroking his beard. "Yes, yes, this could work. Now, I understand how upsetting and stressful this news is. Would you like to be excused from classes for the rest of the day?"

"I – " Buffy began before stopping herself. She was all ready to refuse when she realized that she needed to at least act the part of a person who had just lost her parents. It struck her as a little disturbing that they were discussing the deaths of her parents as if trying to strategize a Quidditch match. "Yeah, sure, that would be of the good."

"Excellent, here is your pass," Dumbledore said, reaching into his robes and extracting a piece of parchment. Buffy took it and rose to leave when Dumbledore stopped her. "One more thing before you leave, Miss Summers. Professor Giles has been asking about you."

"Has she?" Buffy asked. After that one day in class where Professor Giles had singled her out and found out what she was, they had kept a polite distance, Buffy only speaking when spoken to and Professor Giles rarely calling on her. It was a truce, of sorts.

"Yes," Dumbledore replied. "And since you are now staying with us, I think now might be a good idea to let you in on our conversations. She wishes to be your Watcher. Unofficially, of course."

"Professor Giles knows of Miss Summers'… condition?" Dippet asked, finally catching on.

"Completely by accident, I swear," Buffy replied, holding up her hands. "Apparently Watchers and Slayers have this freaky bond where one can sniff out the other, and she sniffed me. She was one, apparently, before she started teaching here."

"Extraordinary," Dippet commented, rubbing a hand over the bald part of his head. "Absolutely fascinating. Well, Miss Summers, I have to say that your arrival has completely shaken my world view."

"Trust me, the feeling is totally mutual," Buffy replied before turning back to Dumbledore. "Tell Professor Giles I'll think about it. I never really thought about going back to active slaying, but after what happened on Halloween I think it might actually be a good idea."

"What happened on Halloween?" Dumbledore asked, curious. "I don't remember anything out of the ordinary."

"That's because I got rid of the threat before it could get to the school," Buffy replied. "Felt some vampires, went into the forest, made with the slayage. All in a day's work."

"I thank you for that, but you should know that the Forest is supposed to be off limits to students," Dumbledore said reprovingly. "Hence the 'Forbidden' moniker. I hope no one else followed you in?"

"Um, nope," Buffy replied, but as soon as the words came out of her mouth she knew Dumbledore didn't believe her for a second. However, he says nothing, but a knowing twinkle glinted in his eye. "So, um, can I go now? Gotta, you know, make with the tears and the depression and stuff."

"I hope to see you in classes tomorrow," Dumbledore said before gesturing towards the door. Taking it as a dismissal, Buffy hastened out of the office and into the deserted corridor. The first lesson was still in session and with any luck, Buffy would be able to make the short trek back to her common room without running into anyone.

Unfortunately, luck was not on her side.

A cool hand clasped around her wrist as she passed by a tapestry, and her assailant used her surprise to haul her into an alcove behind the large piece of fabric. She began to resist until she realized who was holding her captive. Relaxing slightly, she glared into the darkness where she was certain Tom was hiding.

"Seriously, one of these days I'm going to completely freak out when you grab me like that and you're going to end up with a pointy piece of wood in your chest," Buffy grumbled, annoyed that Tom had the audacity to chuckle at her. "And what are you doing up here anyway? Because I'm pretty sure Potions hasn't let out yet."

"I wanted to see where you went," Tom replied.

"Couldn't you have asked Slughorn?" Buffy asked, arching an eyebrow. "I'm sure that if you asked nicely, he would have told you everything he knew."

"And he did," Tom replied, his voice a little smug. Buffy rolled her eyes. "I just wanted to assure myself that you weren't in trouble or anything. If you were, I'd be available to offer my services as a character reference. Or, if required, an alibi."

"Sure you would," Buffy muttered. _Like Dumbledore would take his word,_ she thought. _Dippet might, but Dumbledore definitely wouldn't_. "You don't have to worry about me going anywhere. I can't go home ever again."

"What do you mean?" Tom asked, puzzled. Buffy sighed quietly and steeled herself for what was to come next. It was time to sell the lie. She wished that she had had more time to formulate more of a story and to deal with the emotions she had, but apparently that wasn't to be.

"It means that my parents died and I have no where else to go," Buffy replied. The more she thought about it, the more she felt like she had been kicked in the stomach. She was sure that the tears would come later, when she was behind the curtains of her bed.

"Come here," Tom said, and before she could say no, she was pulled into a tight hug. "I can't say I'm really sad about this, but it must be hard for you. I wish I remembered my mother."

"Why?" Buffy asked. "Why can't you be sad for me?"

"Because it means that you'll be staying in the country," Tom replied. "I have a feeling that stalking you over international borders would be far more difficult."

"And this is where I go back to calling you intense and creepy," Buffy retorted with a snort.

"You wound me with your words," Tom said, swooning dramatically. It had almost the desired effect; while she wasn't laughing like he had wanted to, she had cracked a small smile and that was good enough for him. For now, anyway. "Is it really all that bad, though? I mean, you've made friends, you're doing well. Some might say you're thriving."

"Yeah, but I thought I'd be able to go back to Sunnydale for the summer," Buffy replied. "You know, see my parents, see my friends. Now I can't, never again. No more parents, no more Willow, no more Xander. Hell, I wouldn't mind seeing Angel again because he reminds me of home."

"And Angel is?" Tom asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Old boyfriend, ended badly," Buffy replied quickly.

"You have many old boyfriends that ended badly, or just the one?" Tom asked.

"Just the one, I promise," Buffy replied.

"Good," Tom said. His jaw was tense, his eyes were cold, and even though it wasn't aimed at her, it sent a chill down her spine. "He can't find you here, can he?"

"Nope, he's far, far away," Buffy replied with a decisive nod. She didn't like to think about why he was so far away and how he had got there, and shook her head to clear her thoughts.

"Good," Tom repeated, the arm wrapped around her waist tightening protectively around her. It was then that she realized that she'd been in contact with him since the moment he'd yanked her into the alcove. "Are you going back to your classes today?"

"Dumbledore excused me from classes, so I'm gonna go with no," Buffy replied.

"Would you like me to walk you to your common room?" Tom asked. Buffy chewed on her bottom lip. While support from anyone, including Tom, would be nice, she didn't really want to get tongues wagging and the gossip mill started, which would surely happen if she walked down the hall with Tom in front of everyone. Sure, they'd walked down the corridors together before, but that was later in the day, closer to curfew, when people were in the library or in their common rooms. With her Slayer hearing she could hear people stirring in the classrooms and she was certain that any minute now the bell would ring.

"Look, I don't know if that's a good idea…" Buffy began, looking up at him.

"You're worried about the rumour mill," Tom said. It wasn't a question.

"Well, yeah," Buffy replied. "I kind of wanted to see where whatever this is had any kind of future before other people started talking about it."

"No one's going to talk about it," Tom said.

"How can you be sure?" Buffy retorted.

"I just am," Tom replied. "Look, let's make a bet of it. If no one talks, I win. If the rumour mill starts, you win."

"What do you get if you win?" Buffy asked, curious.

"You will accompany me on the next Hogsmeade weekend as my date," Tom replied.

"And if I win, you have to admit that I was right," Buffy said.

"That's not much of a win," Tom said sceptically.

"It is when you know how hard it is for a guy to admit a girl is right," Buffy retorted.

"So, do we have a deal?" Tom asked. Buffy considered it for a moment before nodding. Before she could say anything, she was being dragged out of the alcove and led down the corridor to the portrait of the Fat Lady. So far, the corridors were still deserted, but that could change at any moment.

"Okay, no one saw us," Buffy said as she tried to extract herself from the circle of Tom's arms, but he would have none of it.

"What, no good-bye kiss?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow. Rolling her eyes, she glanced around furtively and, when she saw that the coast was clear she rose up onto her tiptoes and pecked him lightly on the lips before trying to escape again.

"What, you got what you wanted," Buffy said when his arms wouldn't budge.

"You call that a kiss?" Tom asked before he swooped down and latched his lips onto hers. It wasn't so much of a kiss as more like a snog session, and as he kissed her thoroughly, the bell rang and the corridor flooded with students, some mistakenly jostling them and some staring at them and some outright ignoring him.

"Do you want to tell me that I was right?" Buffy asked.

"No, I saw something I wanted and I took it," Tom replied with a smirk as he finally let her go. "Are you going to be at lunch?"

"Doubtful," Buffy replied. "I don't think I'm going to be fit to be around people for the rest of the day."

"Fair enough," Tom said. "If you need me, come find me. I'll be in Defence Against the Dark Arts for the rest of the morning and either the library or the grounds after lunch. No matter what time it is, I'll make an excuse and be there for you."

"I'll keep that in mind," Buffy replied, although she doubted she'd be in any condition to be anywhere near people within the next fifteen minutes or so.

One last kiss and Tom was on his way, leaving Buffy alone so that she could get into her common room in peace. She gave the password to the Fat Lady, who looked at her somewhat suspiciously before swinging open to admit her. Taking advantage of the deserted common room, Buffy flopped down onto what she was quickly considering her chair. Staring into the fire, she seriously thought about her current situation.

She was stuck in this time. As Tom had said, this wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but it still meant that she was never going to see her friends and family again. She wished she had pictures, and made a silent vow to herself to carry pictures of her loved ones on her person at all times in the off chance she ended up in another dimension again.

She wondered what would happen to her when the school year was over. Would she be taken into a wizarding family, like Dumbledore had suggested? would she have to stay at the school? Now that she thought about it, staying at the school wouldn't be such a bad thing. She could think of worse ways to spend her summer vacation.

Sighing to herself, Buffy pulled out her Charms book and tried to concentrate on that, but her mind kept wandering to what could have been, what will never be. She stared into the flames, kept going by the house elves during the day no doubt, and let the tears slip down her cheeks as she went over all of the memories of her parents and her friends.

It was how Quentin found her when it was time for lunch.

"So this is where you've been hiding. I've wondered where you got to," he said, perching on the arm of her chair. She looked up at him, and for the first time he saw her tear stained face. "What's wrong? You know I'm no good with crying."

"I got some not so great news today," Buffy replied, sniffling a little. Quentin reached into his pocket, pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to her. She smiled gratefully and took it, wiping her eyes and blowing her nose before continuing. "My parents died. Last month. I have no where else to go."

"That's horrible news!" Quentin exclaimed, sliding down so that he could sit next to her. It was a humungous chair, easily large enough for two small-ish people to sit in, and both Buffy and Quentin could be classified as small. They were easily the shortest people in their year. "Wait… you're just hearing about this now?"

"Mystical convergence, remember?" Buffy reminded him, tapping him on the side of the head.

"Do you want to go down to lunch?" Quentin asked.

"No," Buffy replied, shaking her head. "I don't think I want to deal with all of the people, all of the questions why I'm so upset."

"Understandable," Quentin said. "Do you want me to bring anything up?"

"No," Buffy replied, shaking her head. "I'm not hungry."

"Well, I'm starved, but if you want me to stay…" Quentin began, trailing off a little. Buffy prodded him out of the chair and towards the door.

"Go to lunch," Buffy said. "I don't want to be the one to make you waste away."

"I'll be back after Care of Magical Creatures, then," Quentin said as he got up from the chair. "Maybe you'll be up to coming to dinner?"

"We'll see," Buffy replied. Her gaze had gone back to the fire as Quentin waved at her before he turned and left, heading down to the Great Hall.

Buffy was left alone for the rest of the afternoon.

**Chapter 18 DONE! I'm evil, I know. Things should at least start winding down within the next few chapters. I've figured out my ending, and everything that comes before it. The trick is getting there, hehehe.**

**As always, feedback is appreciated, even if it is to say that this little sorry sucks monkey butt :P.**


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Buffy must have been giving off "go away" vibes, because as people passed through the common room they all seemed to act as if she wasn't' there. It wasn't until after classes were over and her friends were returning their books before dinner that anyone spoke to her.

"You know, if you don't have a pass to be out of class, I'm going to have to write you up, even if you are a friend of mine," Minerva said, only half joking. Mutely, and without meeting Minerva's eyes, Buffy handed over her note from Professor Dumbledore. "What's wrong, Buffy? You look like someone kicked your puppy or something."

"Not quite," Buffy replied sadly. She was quite melancholy now, able to pull off the whole "I just lost my parents" act with ease. "My parents died just before Christmas. House fire."

"That's horrible!" Minerva said, sitting on the arm of Buffy's chair and wrapping an arm around the smaller girl. "Is there anything I can do? Is Professor Dumbledore going to be taking you back to California for the funeral? Are you going to be leaving Hogwarts?"

"No, I'm okay, the funeral already happened and I have no other family, so I'm a ward of the school until they figure out what to do with me," Buffy replied with a sigh.

"Well, unless you get a better offer, you're spending the summer with me," Minerva said, squeezing Buffy's shoulders. "No complaints, missy. I've grown quite fond of you. I'm sure my parents won't mind."

"Thanks," Buffy replied, offering a weak smile up at Minerva. At that moment, Augusta and Terrence burst in, laughing about something. One look at Buffy and Minerva, though, and the laughter came to an abrupt halt.

"Who died?" Terrence asked, which earned him a smack on the back of the head from Augusta. "What? She looks like someone died. Insatiable curiosity had be asking after it!"

"You're so insensitive sometimes," Augusta said with a roll of her eyes before she turned to Buffy. "What's wrong, Buffy? You look really upset."

"I just got some bad news today," Buffy replied. She didn't want to burden her friends with her problems if she didn't have to. "I swear, though, I'm fine. Or I will be, eventually."

"You're not getting away that easily," Augusta said.

"Yeah, you got bad news. So share," Terrence said with a nod of his head. "Your pain is our pain is our pain. Make with the spillage already." He grimaced after he realized what he had said. "You're a horrid influence on me, you know that?"

"She's slowly and surely making other people mangle the English language, one poor impressionable sap at a time," Augusta remarked with a laugh. Buffy giggled, but quieted quickly. It didn't really right to laugh at a time like this.

"Seriously, though, you can tell us what's wrong," Terrence said. "If some stupid bloke went and broke your heart, I'll make him regret messing with you."

"No, it's nothing like that," Buffy replied with a shake of her head. "I just found out today that my parents died and I have to stay here. Well, not here, here because here is a school and closed during the summer, but here as in stay in the country because I have no other family to go to."

"Where are you going to go?" Augusta asked. Her eyes were filling with tears as she spoke, and it looked like she was going to burst into tears at any moment.

"Come on August, it's not that bad," Terrence said, wrapping an arm around Augusta's shoulder. "Well, okay, it _is _that bad. But we'll look after her, won't we?"

"But it's just so sad!" Augusta wailed, burying her face in Terrence's neck.

"It's not because of that stupid Muggle war, is it?" Terrence asked.

"No, my parents were supposed to be safe and sound back in California," Buffy replied. "And they were, until some stupid mouse decided the wires looked yummy. Burned the whole house down. Nothing left."

"Where are you going to go?" Augusta asked again, extracting herself from Terrence. Her face was still splotchy, but she had calmed down considerably.

"We didn't get that far," Buffy replied. "I think Dumbledore is going to see if he can find a family to take me in. It'll only be for one summer."

"You know what cheers me up?" Terrence asked.

"If it's something naughty I don't want to know," Buffy replied.

"Nothing like that. Although…" Terrence trailed off, a dreamy expression on his face. It was only when Augusta smacked him on the arm that he came back to the present. "Yes, right. Well, when I'm down I find that hopping on a broom and going for a ride. The wind in my hair, nothing but air around me. It's exhilarating!"

"Are you quite mad?" Minerva asked. "We're not taking her flying now, Terrence. It's the middle of bloody winter! And she's never flown before. How were you going to work around that?"

Buffy's gaze moved to the window. The sky was clear, and the colours of sunset were streaking through the blue. It looked almost inviting, but Buffy definitely wasn't fooled. She knew it was absolutely freezing outside; there was no way in hell they were going to get her to leave the castle unless it was a dire emergency.

"California girl here," Buffy said. "Buffy and the cold are non-mixy things. Besides, I still have to catch up on all of my work that I missed today. I hope Quentin got it all for me."

"You took the whole day off?" Terrence asked. "You've been up here all by yourself all day? You should have come and find one of us, we would've kept you company. Right, girls?" Both Minerva and Augusta nodded in agreement.

"I haven't been alone all day," Buffy replied. "Quentin came up during lunch trying to find me. And people have been coming and going, they just haven't been talking to me."

"Where is that twitchy little bugger, anyway?" Terrence asked, looking around the common room. "He's supposed to be your best fried, comforting you in your time of need and all that."

"We've got Care of Magical Creatures last thing today," Buffy replied. "Knowing my luck, Ramsay's probably interrogating him under a bright light, trying to find out if I'm skipping or legitimately absent."

"Wouldn't Dumbledore or Dippet have sent a note letting him know you wouldn't be in class?" Augusta asked. She was finally calmed completely down, although her cheeks were still a little rosy.

"Professor Ramsay hates me," Buffy replied glumly with a sigh. Just then, Quentin entered the common room and made a beeline towards Buffy, flopping down next to her on the chair that might as well be called a loveseat because it was so large.

"Blimey, I never realized how much Professor Ramsay hated you," he said. "If I ever doubted you before, I'm so sorry."

"What did he do?" Buffy asked, mildly curious.

"Gave me the third degree, he did," Quentin replied, rubbing a hand over his eyes. "He just wouldn't let up!" Where's Summers? Did you help her forge this note? Do you know anything about these obvious lies? Did you help her compose this ridiculous piece of tripe she's trying to pass off as an essay? The man was mad, I say. I almost thought he was going to give me a detention so he could ask me more questions."

"Didn't believe me about my wand core, did he?" Buffy asked, remembering the essay she had handed in just before the Christmas break. Quentin shook his head sadly. "Well, tough noogies. I don't think I'm going to be taking that class next year anyway. No point, if the teacher hates your guts."

"What's in your wand core?" Terrence asked, curiously.

"Not important," Buffy replied, waving it off. "If he doesn't believe me, he can go and ask Mr. Ollivander about it."

"Ramsay's probably going to say you paid him off or something," Quentin said with a snort.

"Yeah, sure, I'm just swimming in cash and can just pay off random old guys to say what I want them to say," Buffy said with a roll of her eyes.

"I'm sure if he thought about it, he'd realize how ridiculous his thinking is," Augusta said thoughtfully.

"Problem is, he's an adult with a stick shoved up his ass and thinks he can't be wrong," Buffy replied. Gasping, shocked laughs came from her friends and she realized that swearing was generally a no-no for woman. She generally didn't swear anyway, but Professor Ramsay had her so irritated it just slipped out.

Made her want to Slay something.

"This conversation is really bringing me down. You know, downer than I was before, which I didn't think was possible," Buffy said. "I think I'm just going to head up to bed."

"Do you want us to come with you?" Minerva asked, gesturing to herself and Augusta.

"No, that's fine," Buffy replied.

"What about dinner?" Quentin asked. "Do you want me to bring something up for you?"

"Not hungry," Buffy replied. She wasn't, really; Professor Giles had been right when she said that Slayers could go a day or two without food altogether, and really only needed a little bit of food each day. Much less than regular people.

"Well, feel better, then," Quentin said, sounding a little awkward. "Hope to see you in classes tomorrow."

"Yeah, see you guys later," Buffy said before turning and heading up to her dormitory. She flopped down onto her bed and stared at the ceiling. She was formulating a plan.

She was going to go slaying that night.

XoXoXo

Buffy had to wait until everyone had gone to bed before she left her room again. Using every bit of stealth she had, she crept out from her bed curtains and grabbed her cloak. It wasn't the best for slaying, but it was the only thing she had and it was too cold outside to go without. She'd just have to make due and hope that anything she met on the way was slower than her.

She tiptioed across the common room, glad that it appeared empty. The fewer witnesses around, the better. Getting out of the common room wasn't much of a challenge, though; she could claim that she was going for a walk or heading down to the kitchens, if she knew where they were. No, the real challenge was getting down seven floors of the school without getting caught by ghost, teacher, caretaker or prefect. She knew that they all patrolled the halls at night – Tom had mentioned more than once about patrolling after their tutoring sessions – and although she wasn't sure what routes or the patrol schedule was like, she was sure she'd be able to get out of the school relatively quickly and quietly.

The Fat Lady gave a soft snore as Buffy pushed the portrait open, but she did not wake as she listened carefully. No footsteps, a good sign, and she could see no signs of the ghosts that haunted the school. She got along quite well with Sir Nicholas, and she was far less disturbed by his head wobbling around, partially decapitated, than some of the other students. While she did not like to be touched by the ghost – no one did, really, they got along quite well.

Creeping down the hallway, Buffy kept to the shadows, particularly glad that her Mary Jane shoes were all but silent on the stone floors; her boots would have been clicking on the stores for sure and she would have been in deep trouble before she could get to the stairs. The quiet footwear made it possible for her to get all the way to the doors in the Entrance Hall. She glanced around – still, no one there – before she pushed the doors open. They soundlessly swung open, admitting Buffy to the still, snow-covered grounds.

There were several tracks of footsteps from the students, both to and from the greenhouses and to and from the Care of Magical Creatures paddock. Professor Ramsay must be having his classes outside again. _Oh goody, just what I need,_ Buffy thought with a grimace as she made her way to the Forest. This was easy, too easy, and she almost wondered when the other shoe was going to drop.

As she reached the edge of the Forest, ready to go in, the first inklings of "this is a bad idea" came into her head. She was, after all, only armed with her wand, and while much better at using it she wasn't entirely sure if she'd be able to use it in a real world situation. Her charms were still abysmal, but she was getting pretty proficient with curses. However, she wasn't entirely sure if a Jelly-Legs Jinx would be particularly useful against a vampire.

"Well, here goes everything," Buffy said quietly, bending to pick up a piece of wood that would work as a stake. She could have used her wand, she supposed, like Dumbledore had said, but she didn't want to risk it turning to dust when she stuck it into a vampire. Explaining that to Dumbledore, Dippet and Mr. Ollivander was one conversation she never wanted to have.

The Forest was eerily quiet. Too quiet, in fact, because every forest had nocturnal creatures that scurried around at night. However, the only sounds that could be heard were Buffy's footsteps crunching in the leaves and frozen snow on the forest floor.

"Here, demon, demon, demon," she sang softly as she tried to go further into the forest as stealthily as she could.

"You know, I don't think a demon is going to come out and get you just because you asked it to," said a voice from behind her. Not expecting to see or hear anything, much less have someone _answer _her, Buffy jumped about a foot in the air before whirling around, wand in one hand and stake in the other. Not exactly the best situation, considering she was right handed, but she could stab a stake with her left if the situation called for it.

"Holy crap Tom, don't sneak up on a girl like that!" Buffy exclaimed, surprised. She turned fully and marched over to him, planting herself in front of him. "What do you think you're doing, sneaking out behind me? Do you have any idea how dangerous following me around is?"

"I think I can handle myself against anything that might be in this forest," Tom retorted with a snort. "And what about you? The Forest isn't a safe place for a girl like you."

"Hello? Did you hit your head and lose your memory or something? I'm the Slayer, she who hunts vampires and demons," Buffy replied. "You know, it's kind of my thing."

"The Forest is still off limits to students, Slayer or not," Tom replied. "I'm going to have to write you up for being out of bed and out of bounds after curfew. I hate to do it, but I can't make exceptions, even for you."

"And how are you going to explain being all stalker-y and following me in?" Buffy asked. "You're not allowed in here, either."

"I'll just say I was following a lead," Tom replied. "And that I didn't have time to get a teacher."

"Not like anyone's going to punish me anyway," Buffy scoffed, but she was far less sure of this statement than she sounded. "Dumbledore and Dippet both know about me and what I do."

She turned and began walking farther into the Forest, wary and alert to any noises and movements around her.

"What do you think you're doing, woman? Are you quite mad?" Tom asked, jogging to close the short distance between them.

"Well, if I'm going to get in trouble for this, I might as well have something to show for it," Buffy replied as she continued on into the forest. "If you're scared, you can go back and pretend you didn't see me."

"I'm not scared," Tom replied. If it had been anyone else, Buffy would have described his tone as petulant.

"Then are you coming with me, then?" Buffy asked, turning to face him. She arched an eyebrow expectantly.

"I guess I don't have much of a choice, do I?" Tom replied. "Someone has to keep you safe."

"If anything, I'm going to be saving your ass. Just like I did the last time we were here," Buffy retorted with a snort as she continued into the forest. Hearing something, she stopped and tilted her head, listening.

"What's going on?" Tom whispered.

"Shut up, I'm trying to listen," Buffy replied, waving at him to be quiet. "I thought I heard something."

"It's a forest, you're bound to hear noises," Tom said with a roll of his eyes. "Besides, we're both traipsing around in here and we're hardly being quiet. Maybe it was just our footsteps you heard?"

"Be _quiet_!" Buffy hissed, turning away from him. That turned out to be a mistake on her part, because while she was paying attention to the sounds around her, she wasn't paying attention to what was going on behind her. She was taken by surprise when Tom tackled her to the ground, digging his fingers into her ribs, tickling her.

"You jerk, get off of me!" Buffy exclaimed, fighting back and trying not to laugh. They were rolling around the underbrush, making a ton of noise and most likely alerting everyone in the castle that there were people in the Forest who weren't supposed to be there.

They stopped rolling around, Tom ending up on top. He nuzzled her throat, the side that didn't have the vampire scar, and breathed some hot air onto her chilled skin. It was then that they heard someone crashing through the bushes before they barrelled in on their little impromptu private party.

"You're dead, vampire scum!" Quentin exclaimed, pointing his wand at Tom. Both Buffy and Tom looked at him; Tom was smirking triumphantly and Buffy was blushing in embarrassment. "What the hell is going on, Buffy?"

"Um, oops?" Buffy offered.

She was _so _dead.

XoXoXo

**Well, here's chapter nineteen. It's shorter than some of the other ones, for which I'm sorry. But hey, conflict ho!**

**As always, reviews are appreciated, constructive criticism is lovely and flames will be used to toast marshmallows. Hope you enjoyed it!**


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

"_Umm, oops?" Buffy offered._

_She was _so _dead._

"Please, please, please tell me you two weren't snogging," Quentin said, rubbing his eyes. "Please, please, please tell me he was attacking you and you were about to kick his arse."

"You needn't worry, Trimble. We weren't snogging," Tom replied before he got to his feet. As he helped Buffy up, Quentin relaxed slightly. "You interrupted us before it got that far."

"You're horrible," Buffy said, smacking him on the arm before turning to Quentin. "We weren't going to start snogging, or making out, or whatever. Tom has a very active imagination."

"Tom, is it?" Quentin asked. "When did it stop being Riddle and started being Tom?"

"Umm, it's always been Tom," Buffy replied.

"Oh, right," Quentin said after thinking for a moment. He narrowed his eyes at them again. "What's going on, then? Because it sure doesn't look like Potions tutoring to me."

"Buffy and I have become quite close these last few weeks," Tom replied, wrapping an arm around Buffy's waist. Quentin caught the action, his eyes bugging for a moment before he turned his attention back to the duo in front of him.

"_Him_? Out of all the people in the school, you chose _him_?" Quentin asked. "Come on, Buffy, you have better taste than that. He's a Slytherin, for Merlin's sake!"

"I think she has rather good taste, if you ask me," Tom said haughtily.

"No one's asking you, though," Quentin retorted before turning his attention to Buffy. "I mean, I've accepted the fact that I'd never have a chance with a girl like you. Made my peace with it, you could say. But why _him_? He's a dirty great snake, the slimiest of the slimy. You're a bloody Gryffindor, Summers, you should bloody well act like one. Number one rule is Gryffindors to not fraternize with Slytherins! They're like… like… ice cream and pickles. They just don't go together!"

"I didn't choose for this to happen," Buffy said, her voice pleading. "It just sort of… happened."

"And you didn't try to fight it at all?" Quentin asked.

"Believe me, I tried," Buffy replied with a shake of her head. "Oh, how I tried. But he was very persuasive."

Quentin looked from Buffy to Tom and back to Buffy again before continuing. "He's cursed you into falling in love with him, hasn't he? A love potion or something, it has to be!"

Buffy felt bad for Quentin, she really did. He was so desperate to find a reason for her relationship with Tom that wasn't the normal girl meets boy, girl and boy start liking each other and then boy and girl start making with the smoochies.

"I assure you, Trimble, I do not need to resort to spells and potions to get my way. I do quite well on my own. Most of the time anyway," Tom replied. "Look, I get that you're jealous. You have been thwarted, yet again, by a Slytherin who is your superior in every way. You can't handle a girl like Buffy. I can. It's best that you just accept it and move on with your life. Find a nice girl to settle down with. I hear that Hufflepuffs are quite good for that."

"Handle Buffy? What do you mean, that I wouldn't be able to handle a girl like Buffy?" Quentin asked, his eyes narrowed.

"Yeah, what do you mean by that?" Buffy asked, glaring up at Tom. He seemed unfazed by the twin glares and continued.

"A girl like Buffy needs a firm hand to guide her through this world," Tom replied. "Someone who will be firm and forceful in ensuring that she behaves appropriately in this world. I can do that, you can't."

"Wow," Buffy said, shocked.

"I can't see why you're so shocked at Trimble's immaturity," Tom said with a scoff. "I mean, he is a Gryffindor, after all."

"No, I'm not surprised at that. And I think you might have hit your head or something, because I'm a Gryffindor too, remember? Does that make me immature?" Buffy asked. Tom opened his mouth to reply, but she cut him off. "Don't answer that. I'm surprised at how you think of me. Firm hand to guide me through this world? Needs to ensure I behave appropriately? What am I, some over-eager puppy that pees on the carpet? I don't think you're the boy I thought you were."

"Way to get talked down to by a girl," Quentin said with a snort.

"What are you laughing at? You're no prize either," Buffy said, rounding on Quentin. He stopped smiling and gulped audibly. "All this crap about Slytherins and Gryffindors not mixing. It's racism, plain and simple. Or house-ism. Or some other kind of –ism that doesn't have a name yet. It's ridiculous."

"You didn't grow up around here, or go to school with him from day one," Quentin said. "Slytherins have always been nasty, evil gits."

"Even nasty, evil gits can be reformed," Buffy replied softly, thinking of Angel. Whenever he did cross her mind, which wasn't all that often, it stung a little.

"How do you know?" Quentin asked.

"Because I just know," Buffy replied.

"This is getting ridiculous," Tom said with a sigh. "It's one o'clock in the morning and we're standing in the middle of the forest freezing our balls off. Buffy, can I escort you back to the castle?"

"Hell to the no," Buffy said. "Again with the head hitting. Do you have short term memory loss or something? I'm so annoyed with you that I can't even look at you. I'm heading back on my own."

"I'm coming with you," Quentin said, panic creeping into his voice.

"I'm not going to talk to you," Buffy said. She turned and began stalking away, Quentin on her heels, and would have kept walking if Tom hadn't called her back.

"You can't hide from me forever," he said.

"Oh yeah? Watch me!" Buffy retorted before turning and continuing to stomp off into the forest, hoping she was going the right way. The only sounds were Buffy's and Quentin's footsteps, and neither spoke. Quentin must have taken her words to heart, because not a peep was heard from him.

They were almost to the edge of the forest and in the clear when a rustle of bushes above them caught Buffy's attention. Before either Buffy or Quentin could react, a demon dropped down in front of them from one of the branches above. It was grey and spiny, with a green glowing thing in the middle of its chest.

"Stupefy!" Quentin shouted, pointing his want at the creature. It fell down and remained still. "What d'you reckon it is?"

"No idea, but it looks like your spell is wearing off!" Buffy exclaimed, getting into a fighting stance as the demon began to stir. "Go back to the castle, Quentin. Don't worry about me, this is what I do, remember?"

"'M not leaving you alone," Quentin said, stubborn as ever. Buffy didn't' have a chance to retort because at that moment the demon sprang again, attacking Buffy with strong, fast attacks. as she got into her zone, the actions became automatic. Punch, kick, block, flip. When the creature screamed when Buffy kicked the green glowy thing in its chest, Buffy got an idea. As soon as she had knocked the creature to the ground, she drove her makeshift stake into the demon's chest, right in the middle of the green glow. The demon let out an unearthly scream and dissolved into green fire, leaving not evidence of its existence behind.

"That was brilliant!" Quentin said, his eyes practically glowing with excitement.

"I thought I told you to go back to the castle," Buffy said, dusting her hands off after tossing her makeshift stake into the bushes and tucking her wand into the pocket of her robes.

"And miss that? I don't think so," Quentin replied. "Can all demons be staked?"

"Nope. And that one was just a shot in the dark. I kinda didn't have a plan B for that," Buffy said. "Decapitation works for almost anything, but some need spells or a special sword or something. I don't go into details. Giles just used to tell how to kill something and pointed me in the right direction."

"Still, that was bloody brilliant," Quentin said. "You know, with the screaming and the fighting and the green flames."

"Come on, let's get you back to the tower before y6ou start spilling my secrets and stuff," Buffy said, grabbing him by the elbow and practically dragging him the hundred feet or so to the castle grounds. Quentin was practically vibrating with excitement as they walked up the pat that led to the castle.

As soon as they walked into the entrance hall, Buffy was certain that they were going to be in big trouble. Professor Dumbledore stood there, dressed in a midnight blue dressing gown, an unreadable expression on his face.

"Mr. Trimble, Mr. Riddle, please return to your common rooms at once," Dumbledore said, his voice quiet. Surprised, Buffy glanced over her shoulder. Sure enough, Tom was standing behind her. How long had he been following them? And why hadn't she noticed before? "Miss Summers will be coming with me. If either of you meet Mr. Pringle on your way, let me know in the morning and I'll sort it all out."

Both boys murmured their understanding before turning and leaving for their common rooms, one heading up the stairs, and one heading down to the dungeons. Dumbledore waiting for a few moments, presumably so that the boys were out of earshot, before speaking again.

"Come with me, Miss Summers," Dumbledore said. "We have much to discuss."

Dumbledore set off at a fairly fast pace, but Buffy had no problems keeping up. Up and up they went until they reached the seventh floor, and the door to Dumbledore's office."

"Please, take a seat," Dumbledore said when they had entered the office, gesturing at the chairs around the fireplace. Buffy gingerly sat down and Dumbledore took the seat across from her so that they were facing each other. "Do you know why you are here?"

"Because I snuck out of the castle and into the forest to go demon hunting?" Buffy suggested.

"Well, there is that," Dumbledore conceded. "But there is also the small matter of you taking two defenceless students into the forest with you."

"I didn't take them into the forest," Buffy said. "They followed me. Big difference. If I had things my way, they would have stayed in the castle like they should have. Is it my fault if I have two rather overprotective boys tailing me all the time?"

"I suppose it's not," Dumbledore said. "But the best way to avoid having these two young men following you into the Forest is to stay out of it all together. It is, after all, forbidden."

"I've ran into seven vampires and a demon in the two times I've been in there," Buffy said. "Maybe it's a good idea for me to patrol, just in case something decides it has the balls to attack the school?"

"That is what the teachers worry about," Dumbledore said. "I would like you to worry about attending classes and getting your homework done."

"What about Professor Giles wanting to act as my Watcher?" Buffy asked. "I mean, she'll want me to patrol, right?"

"And at that time, you may patrol because you will be under the supervision of a member of Hogwarts' faculty," Dumbledore replied.

"You're strict," Buffy said. However, she wasn't going to argue with him because he was still going to let her patrol, unlike some other people in her past.

"The safety of the students here is my utmost priority, even if one of my students just so happens to be the one girl in all the world who can fight vampires," Dumbledore replied. "Now, it's off to bed for you, I think. I'm starting you on Vanishing Spells tomorrow morning, and you'll have to have your wits about you."

"Good night, then," Buffy said.

"Good night, Miss Summers," Dumbledore said with a nod, dismissing her. Buffy got up from her chair and left the office, hoping that she wouldn't meet anyone on the way to the portrait of the Fat Lady. The walk to the portrait hole was uneventful, but when she got there the picture frame was empty.

"You have got to be freakin' kidding me," Buffy said with a roll of her eyes. She was about to knock on the frame in the hope that someone was still up when a voice caught her attention.

"What's this? An ickle Gryffindor caught out of bed with no way to get back in? What fun!"

Buffy turned, irritated, but didn't see anyone at eye level. She looked up, but the only thing she could see was a bright read balloon hurtling towards her face. There was no time to dodge, and the balloon landed, bursting open on Buffy's face and drenching her with icy water. Blinking the water from her eyes, she saw a little man floating about six feet above her head, with a sack of what she presumed were water balloons at his side. She had heard of Peeves the Poltergeist, but until that moment she had seen nor heard him.

She decided then and there that the annoying little man with the stupid bell covered hat had the worst timing ever.

"No, yelling, eh?" Peeves asked.

"No," Buffy replied, cocking her head to one side as if she were studying him. "I'm trying to figure out if you're evil or not."

"Now, why would you want to do a silly thing like that?" Peeves asked. He had had a balloon in his hand, but it fell to the floor, unchecked, after what Buffy had said. An expression of curiosity crossed Peeves' face, and he, too was studying someone.

"You see, there's this thing called a Vampire Slayer. Except she doesn't just slay vampires. Anything evil gets the whole Slayer treatment," Buffy replied. "If you're evil, I get to slay you. I've had a bad evening, so I'm kinda hoping you're evil."

"Peevsie isn't evil," said Peeves, his eyes widening with a little bit of fear. Looks like he'd heard of the Slayer. "Peevsie just likes to have a little fun with the students, that's all."

"Damn, not evil," Buffy said. Peeves looked rather pleased with himself, although he didn't reach for another balloon. "But that won't stop me from making your life hell if you annoy me."

"Yes Miss Slayer, of course Miss Slayer," Peeves said. "Peevsie won't be bothering you again."

As the poltergeist zoomed off, probably to find another unsuspecting poor sap to annoy, the Fat Lady's portrait swung open and Quentin stuck his head out into the corridor.

"I thought I heard voices out here," he said. "What did Dumbledore want with you? And why are you all wet?"

"I'll tell you once we get inside," Buffy replied as Quentin moved out of the way so she could enter the common room. It was still dimly lit, the fire giving off a few embers of flickering light. Quentin pointed his wand at her and murmured a drying spell so that she could sit down and not worry about soaking the furniture. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it," Quentin replied. "So… Dumbledore?"

"Wanted to chew me out for sneaking out of the castle and dragging you and Tom with me," Buffy replied. "Had to correct him, because there was no way I was going to drag you two yahoos with me. He said that I wasn't allowed to patrol on my own anymore, and that I needed a faculty member with me."

"Oh yeah?" Quentin asked. "Which faculty member is that?"

"Professor Giles," Buffy replied. "She wants to act as my Watcher, unofficially."

"She's a little old, isn't she?" Quentin asked sceptically.

"Watchers don't take part in the active fighting," Buffy replied. "They just stand back and… watch."

"I see," Quentin said. "And the whole you turning up soaked? Because you weren't rolling around in the snow that much, were you?"

"Peeves attacked me with a water balloon," Buffy replied, scrunching her nose up a little. "Was going to do it again, but I mentioned that I was the Slayer and he said he wouldn't bother me anymore."

"I don't think he's ever done that before," Quentin said. "Weird."

"I'm not going to read too much into it," Buffy replied. "Anyway, I'm heading to bed. It's been a long, _long _day and even Slayers need sleep."

"I should go, too," Quentin said, stifling a yawn. He got up and helped Buffy out of her chair before they both turned and headed towards their respective stairways, heading up them without another word.

xoxoxo

The next morning found Buffy functioning normally – well, as normally as someone who had just found out that she was stuck in 1944 and had just had a huge fight with her kind-of-sort-of-maybe boyfriend – while Quentin was demonstrating his fluency in Troll.

"How do you do it?" Quentin groaned, yawning for the fifth time as they walked to the Great Hall for breakfast. "If I didn't think I needed to go to class, I would skive and sleep."

"Part of the Slayer package," Buffy replied with a shrug. "Need to keep up the secret identity somehow. High school student only taking afternoon classes kind of leads to questions."

"It's not fair," Quentin grumbled as they sat down. Buffy was hoping for an owl-free morning; she didn't like the idea of a bird eating off of her plate.

"You wanna die early?" Buffy asked. "'Cause I'll gladly trade."

It was lucky that the Great Hall was crowded and noisy, making it so that they couldn't be overheard.

"Nevermind," Quentin mumbled, snagging a piece of toast and averting his gaze.

"Oi, look who's up and around," Terrence said as he flopped down on Buffy's other side. "Feeling all right?"

"I've been better," Buffy replied. "But I can't miss any more classes. I'm still really behind."

"Dumbledore seems to think you're doing really well in Transfiguration," Minerva said. She had joined them about the same time as Terrence had, sitting across the table from Buffy and next to Augusta.

"And your Defence Against the Dark Arts work is brilliant," Quentin piped up.

"Herbology's not half bad, either," Terrence said. "Not outstanding, of course, but you could probably pass the test as long as you work at it."

"It's your Charms that's the problem," Augusta said. "You and I need to step up the tutoring sessions if you're going to get anything better than a Poor on the exam."

Buffy noticed that none of them mentioned Care of Magical Creatures or Potions, the first one because she was doing decently enough, but they knew it was a sore subject for her. Even though she'd been at the school for over three months, she still had no idea why Professor Ramsay disliked her so much. Maybe it would be a question she could ask Dumbledore during one of their random and somewhat frequent meetings. The second, of course, because none of them really knew how well she was doing in that class, and the fact that her tutor just so happened to be a Slytherin and none of them wanted to acknowledge that fact.

"He's staring at you again," Quentin said out of the corner of his mouth.

"Let him stare," Buffy whispered back. "I'm not going to let it bother me."

"What are you two lovebirds whispering about?" Terrence crowed loudly.

"All of the naughty things I'm planning to do to him when we're alone," Buffy retorted. Terrence's grin fell and he looked absolutely terrified.

"Seriously?" he asked, gulping.

"No, you doofus," Buffy replied. "But that'll teach you for trying to nose in on other people's conversations."

Buffy swore she heard Terrence mutter something about mean blonde girls but paid it no mind as she dug into her eggs and bacon, the greasy comfort food doing what it was meant to do, comfort her.

The rest of breakfast passed without much more fanfare; no owls landed near Buffy's breakfast, which made her eternally thankful. Before long, she was picking up her bag and she and Quentin headed up to Transfiguration. Buffy could feel a pair of eyes burning holes into her back, but she studiously ignored the gaze. She would acknowledge him when she was good and ready, and right now, it would be a really long time before she'd be able to look at him without fighting the urge to kick his rather well formed Slytherin butt.

Transfiguration had passed without much excitement, either; Dumbledore had been right when he had said she would need her wits about her with regard to Vanishing Spells. By the end of the class, she had nearly Vanished her snail, and had earned an encouraging smile from Dumbledore.

The next class was Defence Against the Dark Arts, one that she had mixed feelings about. While she was doing quite well in the class – full marks, or nearly full marks on her assignments, even without Quentin's help – she still had a bit of a distance from Professor Giles. That was most likely to change, considering that Professor Giles was going to be acting as her Watcher.

"Miss Summers, a word please?" Professor Giles said after the lesson was over – Fyarl demons, that day – and nearly everyone had left. "Mr. Trimble, you may wait outside for Miss Summers to finish."

"If this is about what I think it's about, he should probably stick around," Buffy said. "He's going to hear about it anyway, later."

"Fine then," Professor Giles said with a disapproving sniff. "Close the door, please, Mr. Trimble. How much does he know?"

"Everything," Buffy replied.

"You're not a by the book Slayer, are you Miss Summers?" Professor Giles asked, curious.

"What can I say? Not really book girl here," Buffy replied. The mention of being "book girl" brought up memories of Willow, which reminded her that she would never go home again, which made her sad.

"Is he the only one that knows?" Professor Giles asked.

"He's the only one who's going to be helping me," Buffy replied. That was definitely true; there was no way she was going to let Tom anywhere near her, for training or anything else. Although sparring with him and kicking his sorry ass was quite appealing at that moment.

"I believe that we should start your training as soon as possible," Professor Giles continued, look of disapproval on her face. "You are to meet me here after dinner this evening. I'm assuming Mr. Trimble will be accompanying you?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," Quentin replied breathlessly.

"You won't be saying that when the session is over," Professor Giles said. Buffy could have sworn she saw a smirk on the older woman's face, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. "If your friends ask where you've gone for the evening, say that you've got detention."

"Okay," Buffy replied with a shrug. She doubted her friends would ask, although now that she thought of it Augusta probably wouldn't be pleased with her when she found out Buffy would not be able to study Charms that night.

"Do either of you have any questions?" Professor Giles asked. Both Gryffindors shook their heads. "Then you two are to meet me here at seven o'clock this evening, and not a minute later."

"See you then," Buffy said, getting up to leave. Quentin practically bounced out the door, and Buffy wondered what kinds of things Professor Giles had planned for them.

xoxoxo

**Chapter 20 done for your reading pleasure. *looks at wordcount* O.O Holy crap, over 80k words. That's, like, a record for me. Cool.**

**Anyway, as usual, reviews, constructive criticism, flames, yadda, yadda, yadda, I'm sure you know the drill by now. Let me know what you think, k?**


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

Buffy had been right – Augusta wasn't particularly happy with the fact that Buffy had 'detention', but there wasn't much the older girl could do but pout and hope that Buffy didn't get in trouble the next day. No one really thought much of the fact that Quentin left with Buffy that evening when she headed for her detention, and even less at the fact that he didn't come back.

The two Gryffindors were about halfway to the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom when they were stopped by a tall, blond-haired boy, Slytherin judging by the patch on his robes. he also had a gleaning silver badge on his chest proclaiming his status as Head Boy. His name started with an "M" – Mallory? No. McCoy? Also no. Malfeasance? Still no, but Giles would have been proud of her to being able to think of that word.

"Well, well, well, what have we here?" he asked, arching a perfectly groomed eyebrow at them. "Two Gryffindors out of their common room. Out for a romantic tryst, perhaps? I'd expect something like this from you, Summers, but Trimble, I'm surprised. I thought a prefect like you would have a little more class."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Buffy asked, her voice wary.

"Yeah, Malfoy, what are you on about?" Quentin asked.

"I know things about your dear Miss Summers that would ruin her," Malfoy – Buffy made a mental not of that – said with a smirk.

"Don't listen to him," Quentin murmured out of the corner of his mouth. "He's just trying to rile you up so you'll do something stupid."

"I don't think you should be telling her what to do," Malfoy said. "I heard she doesn't like that very much."

"What else do you know?" Buffy asked, narrowing her eyes up at Malfoy.

"You see, if I told you then I'd be showing my entire hand," Malfoy replied. "Even a Gryffindor like you should be able to see how deeply stupid that is."

"Is he human?" Buffy asked, turning her attention completely to Quentin and ignoring Malfoy for the time being.

"Yeah, he's just a nasty git," Quentin replied. "Why?"

"Doesn't matter," Buffy said with a sigh.

"You know, I could write you up for language like that," Malfoy said. "Take some points from you. Twenty each would be a good start, I think."

"Could you get on with it, then?" Buffy asked, sounding bored. "It's just that we have detention with Professor Giles in five minutes and dealing with you is really making me want to hurt something."

"Magic isn't allowed to be used in the corridors," Malfoy replied. "Besides, I heard you couldn't curse your way out of a paper bag."

"Who said anything about using a wand?" Buffy asked, cocking an eyebrow at him.

"This isn't over, Summers," Malfoy said, backing away. He turned and stalked off, his roves billowing rather impressively behind him.

"What the hell was that?" Quentin asked, staring after Malfoy as he stalked away.

"I'll let you know as soon as I figure it out," Buffy replied. "I don't think Riddle told him anything, do you?"

"He's a Slytherin," Quentin offered by explanation. "Does it make me a horrible person for half hoping he did so I can watch you beat the daylights out of him?"

"Yes, yes it does," Buffy replied. "Come on, Professor Giles will have our heads if we're late."

"Yeah, probably," Quentin agreed as the two of them walked as quickly as they could to the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, where Professor Giles was waiting for them. She did not look impressed.

"You're late," she said, glancing at her watch.

"If we were allowed to do magic in the corridors, we would have been here much faster," Quentin replied.

"Or, y'know, violence against humans in my case," Buffy said with a shrug.

"No matter, you're both here now," Professor Giles said with a sigh. It was then that Buffy noticed that the desks had been pushed out of the way, leaving a large square of floor space to work with.

"So, we're training here?" Buffy asked.

"Astute observation," Professor Giles replied, a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

"Are all of you Watcher types this snarky, or am I just lucky?" Buffy retorted.

"We are when we have to deal with smart mouthed American teenagers," Professor Giles shot back.

"You know, I think I liked my old Watcher better," Buffy said thoughtfully. "He might have been snarky, but at least he gave me cookies."

"Merlin save me now," Professor giles said, rolling her eyes heavenward in exasperation. "May I ask who your previous Watcher was?"

"What makes you think you would know who he was?" Buffy asked with a pointed look.

"Good point," Professor Giles said after thinking for a moment. "Now then, what kinds of fighting styles have you learned?"

"There are styles?" Buffy asked, a perplexed look on her face. Of course, she knew that there were different fighting styles, but most of the time she went with her instincts. Buffy-style was a mish-mash of different fighting styles she had seen, and she went with what was comfortable.

"I'm beginning to wonder how you've lasted so long," Professor Giles murmured to herself, causing Buffy to scowl slightly. "What kind of weaponry have you used?"

"Basic stake, longsword, battle axe, quarterstaff, crossbow," Buffy replied. She decided to keep mum about the rocket launcher. No need to get Quentin more excited than he already was. "You know, the staples."

"Why do I have this feeling you've had a rather interesting and unconventional training regime?" Professor Giles asked.

"Maybe you've been spending too much time around Madam Trelawney and her Seer-ness is rubbing off on you?" Quentin suggested. The glare he got for that had him cowering really quickly.

"Why do I have the feeling that response was due to _your _influence?" Professor Giles asked, rounding on Buffy.

"Can I use the Madam Trelawney defence too?" Buffy asked. Professor Giles narrowed her eyes at her. "I can't help it if I influence people! Blame the impressionable people, not me!"

"Hey, I'm not impressionable!" Quentin exclaimed.

"Are you two going to let me start this training session or not?" Professor Giles asked, arching an eyebrow.

"No one's stopping you, Professor," Buffy replied sweetly.

"I must have been completely off my rocker when I asked Professor Dippet if I could train you," Professor Giles said with a sigh.

_She must be used to by-the-book Slayers_, Buffy thought as Professor Giles walked across the room to a training dummy that was leaning up against a wall. _She's in for a bit of a surprise_.

"Now then," Professor Giles said as she poked the dummy with her wand. "This dummy can be animated with a spell that will cause it to react to attacks. It can go on the offensive and the defensive and use weapons. There are various difficulty levels that can be set by waving your wand a certain way."

"My old Watcher would have loved this," Buffy said, walking around the dummy, poking and prodding at it to see what it would do. It brushed off her contact, batting her hand away. "Would have saved him a ton of bumps, bruises and head injuries."

"Benefits of having a witch for a Watcher," Professor Giles said with a smirk. "Now, shall we begin? Some hand to hand combat for this evening should suffice to gauge some of your abilities."

"Great, slaying in a skirt," Buffy said with a roll of her eyes. "My favourite type of Slaying."

"Didn't you slay in a skirt before?" Quentin asked, curious.

"Nope, I wore pants," Buffy replied, which garnered a curious gaze from Professor Giles and a sort of shocked choking noise from Quentin.

"Weren't you cold?" Quentin asked, after he had recovered. "I mean, I know you lived in California, but I didn't think it was that warm."

"No… pants are usually warmer than skirts, because they're long and cover the entire leg," Buffy replied.

"I think this might be a case of culture clash," Professor Giles said. "You mean trousers, Miss Summers."

"Really? What was I talking about when I said pants?" Buffy asked, although she had a feeling she didn't really want to know.

"Underpants, Miss Summers," Professor Giles said with a hint of a smile.

"You were thinking about me Slaying in my underpants?" Buffy asked, rounding on Quentin. "Stop thinking about me Slaying in my underpants!"

"Believe me, I'm trying," Quentin said, rubbing his eyes.

"And on that happy note, let's get this evaluation underway," Professor Giles said brightly, prodding the dummy with her wand again. "You may begin now."

XOXOXO

"That was interesting," Quentin said.

"Please, being berated because I didn't know the various fighting styles was embarrassing, not interesting," Buffy said with a sigh. "And hearing that my training was woefully inadequate and that my Watcher shouldn't have been on active duty kind of hurt. Like, I'm sorry that I wasn't discovered until I was Called and not taken from my family at birth because I was a Potential, but was that my fault? _No_. Although she totally made it sound that way."

"So, why did you want to know if Malfoy was human?" Quentin asked.

"I'm not allowed to hurt humans, even the evil ones," Buffy replied with a shrug. "Thought I'd check, but this place doesn't really seem like the kind of place to let part-humans in."

"There's enough prejudice around here with blood purity," Quentin remarked. "I shudder to think how things would go if they let werewolves or other part-humans around here. I actually don't even know if werewolves are allowed. I mean, they're dangerous beasts, aren't they?"

"Not all the time," Buffy replied, remembering Oz. "They're only dangerous three days out of the month. If you think about it, I'm not a happy camper three days out of the month, either."

"And you would know this how?" Quentin asked.

"My friend's boyfriend was, is a werewolf," Buffy replied.

"What did you do to control him during his transformation?" Quentin asked, curious.

"Locked him in the book cage in the library," Buffy replied. "I got to stay watch. He couldn't get out and I was there in case he did."

"I suppose that would work, but since you're the first Slayer to attend Hogwarts – the first Slayer to exist in the wizarding world, at that – I don't think they'll be utilizing that method any time soon," Quentin remarked.

"Didn't think so," Buffy said. "So, what was up with that Malfoy guy anyway? Any particular reason why he was making like I was some kind of ho? It's not like I've been shoving my tongue down every guy's throat."

"No, but reputations can be ruined if you shove your tongue down the wrong boy's throat," Quentin pointed out. "And Malfoy has a rather… unfavourable view of anyone who has less than pure blood. Finds them uncouth, and less civilized. And can we please stop talking about your tongue? It's starting to make me feel uncomfortable."

"How does he know I'm not a pureblood?" Buffy asked with a snort.

"Well, are you?" Quentin asked.

"Well, no," Buffy replied. "I mean, I'm pretty sure. Neither of my parents showed any kind of magical ability as far as I'm aware. But still, how did he _know_? Is there, like, a secret handshake or something?"

"Purebloods just know," Quentin replied. "There are the big names that everyone in our world knows. Potter, Weasley, Malfoy, Prewett, Black, Longbottom… there are others, but those are the big ones. All you have to do, really, is look at the surnames of most of the Slytherins and you'll get a lot of the pureblood names. Well, the evil ones, anyway."

"So Tom's a pureblood?" Buffy asked.

"Not sure. I've never heard of the name, but that doesn't mean he isn't one," Quentin replied. "There are loads of smaller names; most people only know the main ones."

"So, it's kind of like the royal family, then," Buffy mused.

"Yeah, kind of," Quentin agreed. "I'm a half blood myself. Dad's Muggle-born and my granddad on my mum's side is a Muggle. It doesn't really mean anything, though. Magic's magic, and your blood has nothing to do with your power level."

"Spoken like a true Mudblood," said a voice from behind them. They turned and, sure enough, Malfoy was standing behind them. "You two ought to get back to your common room. Wouldn't want something… _unfortunate_… to happen to you."

"Not afraid of you," Buffy said, narrowing her eyes. She'd just finished getting berated for her fighting style and methods and was really itching for a fight to prove how effective her way was. Malfoy was looking pretty good as a punching bag right about now.

"You should be, you filthy Mudbloods," Malfoy sneered. "There will come a day where the purebloods will rule the wizarding world, a right long due to them, and filth like you will be our slaves."

"This conversation isn't going into disturbing territory, not at all," Buffy said sarcastically as Malfoy sneered at them again before turning and stalking off in the opposite direction.

"Okay, so that was totally random," Buffy remarked. "But I think he's got the right idea. Let's get back, I still have Charms homework to do."

"Good plan," Quentin agreed, and together they headed back up to the seventh floor, thankfully unhindered this time.

XOXOXO

The next morning, Buffy woke up with a mission in her mind. She had to track down ol' Tommy-Boy and set the record straight with him. If he'd gone blabbing about their nearly non-existent, but still very much real, relationship-slash-snogging sessions, there would be heads to bash.

"You look like you're going to kill someone," Minerva remarked as Buffy marched down the girl's staircase and into the common room. "I don't want to know. I don't want to go into the books as the Head Girl who was accessory to murder."

"Hopefully it won't come to that," Buffy replied solemnly. "Have you seen Quentin? He's usually up before I am."

"Here I am," Quentin greeted, before Minerva could get an answer in. "You look like you're going to kill someone. Hey, if it's Riddle or Malfoy, can I watch?"

"I think you've been a bad influence on him, Buffy," Minerva said, looking pointedly at the girl in question. "He's never been this fascinated with violence."

"His favourite class is Defence Against the Dark Arts, one of the most violent branches of magic. The seeds were already there, I just helped them grow. Which is weird because I can't get normal plants to grow to save my life," Buffy replied, before turning to Quentin. "And there will be no killing. And no, you can't watch."

"You're no fun," Quentin said with a pout. Minerva just shook her head; she had learned fairly quickly that trying to understand their friendship was a lost cause. "You ready for breakfast?"

"I suppose," Buffy said with a sigh, although she wasn't actually going to eat anything. She doubted she'd have time.

They left the common room together and headed down to the Great Hall for breakfast, joining the other students in their travels as they trickled down from their various common rooms for sustenance. When they reached the Great Hall doors, Buffy put a hand on Quentin's arm to hold him back.

"Before you go in, can you tell me if Tom's at the Slytherin table?" Buffy asked.

"I don't see him," Quentin replied, craning his neck to make sure. "Nope, I can't see the oily bastard."

"You go on ahead, then," Buffy said. "I have to deal with something here."

"Does that something involve ripping a certain Slytherin a new one?" Quentin asked deviously.

"Minerva's right, I have been a bad influence on you," Buffy said before pointing in the direction of the Gryffindor table. "Go eat some breakfast. You get cranky when you don't get your morning OJ."

"Yes ma'am," Quentin said, hanging his head in mock shame before he headed to the Gryffindor table. Buffy took up a post guarding the door to the Great Hall, waiting for her target.

She didn't have to wait long.

In the group of Slytherins he was laughing with, he was the closest to her. None of them noticed her; no one did, when she wanted to go unnoticed. The Slayer was able to blend into her surroundings in order to launch surprise attacks, and she needed that camouflage that day. She supposed it helped that the black robes and grey uniform helped her blend into the wall, but didn't really dwell on the implications of that.

As soon as Tom was close enough, she grabbed onto his wrist and bodily dragged him away from his friends. An indignant noise was silenced by a glare as she made sure they were in an area where they wouldn't be disturbed before she slammed him up against the wall, pinning him with a glare.

"Not so fun when it's happening to you, is it?" she asked, poking him in the chest.

"I never got violent with you, though," Tom reminded her. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you wanted to bruise a bloke. What's this about?"

"You. You and your blabbermouth," Buffy replied, poking him again.

"Come again?" Tom asked, confused. "I haven't the foggiest what you're talking about, Buffy."

"You! You and your spilling secrets and telling people private things that shouldn't be told," Buffy retorted.

"Those are kind of the same thing, love," Tom said with a smirk. "And I still have no idea what you're talking about. Explain, please."

"Ran into your friend Malfoy last night," Buffy replied. "Said he knew things about me that could ruin me. Made like I was some kind of ho-bag, shoving my tongue down every guy's throat, if his comments to me and Quentin were any kind of indication. There's only two people who know stuff that would ruin me. One is you, the other is Quentin. I know Quentin wouldn't betray me. So that leaves you. You have thirty seconds to convince me not to beat the snot out of you, starting _now_."

"Abraxas was probably talking out of his arse," Tom said, sighing at Buffy's puzzled look. "Malfoy. His first name is Abraxas. He was probably talking out of his arse, trying to rattle you. Unless he saw me snogging you the other day. Or at the Slug Club party. We weren't really being subtle about that."

"So you didn't tell him anything and make me out to be some kind of disgusting ho-bag?" Buffy asked.

"No," Tom said, attempting to step forward. Buffy poked him yet again, pinning him back to the wall.

"You're off the hook for that, but I'm still royally pissed at you," Buffy said, narrowing her eyes at him. "You're still an asshole, even if you're not a rumour-spreading asshole."

She turned and headed to the Great Hall, hoping to grab some breakfast before classes. What she didn't know, but probably should have expected, was that Tom was far from giving her up.

XOXOXO

**Not entirely sure how much I like this, but I'll let you guys decide. Updates should be coming relatively quicker, because I've completed Slayer Shinigami and will be focusing on this fic over anything else. Updates should be coming every week or week and a half or so until its finished, as long as my work schedule and muse cooperate.**

**As always, feedback is much appreciated. Thanks for reading.**


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

"You know, he's looking distinctly unscathed," Quentin remarked after Buffy had sat down at the Gryffindor table and Tom had entered a few moments later, making a beeline for the Slytherin table. "Unless you've got some super secret necromancer powers you haven't told me about yet and he's just a really good zombie."

"I told you, no maiming would happen," Buffy said with a sigh and a roll of her eyes. "Besides, if I'd killed him, no one would have been able to find the pieces."

"And now I _know _you're a horrible influence on him," Minerva said, having heard the last bit of conversation as she sat down across from Buffy. "I mean honestly, who talks like that? You'd better not let anyone hear you say things like that; August is already peeved at you and you do not want get on her bad side."

"I should be safe, I don't have Care of Magical Creatures today," Buffy replied. She really didn't – double Herbology in the morning and History of Magic and a spare study block in the afternoon, which she was fully intending on using to finish her Charms homework, having kind of, sort of, maybe let it get out of control. She wasn't sure how that had happened – after all, she had the theory down fine, it was the practical stuff she had issues with – but she had. Hopefully she'd be able to get it out of the way and work a little more on her Charms. She'd been improving; she could perform the basic charms now, but the more advanced charms usually had her blowing up the object she was charming. Thankfully, she hadn't tried her charms on live people or things yet.

"Well, you'd better not get into trouble," Minerva cautioned. "I've seen Augusta angry, and believe me when I say it'll take _hours _to get all of the charms and spells off of you, and she knows some rather nasty ones."

"I'll be fine," Buffy said with a grin. "Quentin will keep me out of trouble. Won't you, Quentin?"

"I'll try to keep you out of trouble, but if you somehow end up in detention you're facing August alone," Quentin said with a shiver. "August scares me."

"Wuss," Buffy said with a snort, but the grin on her face told him she was just teasing.

"That's not the way you should be speaking to your best friend," Quentin admonished, waving a finger at her before he got up. "Come on, we should probably get going. Herbology first thing, and we still have a bit of a hike."

"Yay snow," Buffy said sarcastically, getting up and wrapping her cloak around herself before grabbing her bag. "I'll see you later, Min."

"See you," Minerva agreed with a smile as she watched the two friends head out of the castle and to the greenhouses.

"There was one thing I loved about my old school, evil trolls of a school principal aside," Buffy remarked as she shivered against the cold as her shoes crunched on the frozen snow.

"Here we go again," Quentin muttered with a sigh, rolling his eyes.

"We didn't have classes outside," Buffy began. Quentin nodded along, having heard this speech before ever since Buffy had realized that she had two professors that had no qualms about risking frostbite by having their classes outside in the dead of winter. "Well, we did, but it was only gym which I ended up skipping anyway, because hello, it was gym. But anyway, the teachers made sure that the weather was decent before making us play outside. Same in elementary school, if it was raining they made us stay inside at recess. But not here, nope, they make you brave a snowstorm to attend a couple of classes."

"It's hardly a snowstorm out here, Buffy," Quentin said, shaking his head. He was right; it was cold, but the sky was blue and the sun was out, shining weakly on them as if trying to fight off the chill.

"It's still too cold for any civilized person to be outside," Buffy replied with a sniff as they headed into greenhouse three.

That day they were looking after the Fanged Geraniums, nasty little flowers that liked to bite and hang on for dear life. Everything was going fine; Buffy was able to keep her fingers safe and bite free until about fifteen minutes before lunch, when a particularly large and vicious geranium clamped down on her right index finger. The only indication of pain was a sharp intake of breath as Buffy tried to wrench her finger free. She had forgotten her dragon hide gloves in her room that morning and had no protection against the carnivorous flower.

Flower and pot went flying across the greenhouse, narrowly avoiding some heads as the other students ducked out of the way. It only stopped when it hit the ground, the pot shattering on impact.

"What in the world did you do to my geranium?" the professor asked as she rushed over to the poor plant to see if it was okay.

"Sure, I get bitten and the plant gets the attention," Buffy grumbled, looking at her finger. The bite was nasty-looking, but Fanged Geraniums weren't venomous, so besides the fact that her hands were covered with dirt, there was little risk for infection if the bite was cleaned properly and the bleeding was stopped.

"Well, it looks like you didn't do any damage to my plant," the professor said with a relieved sigh, before turning her attention to Buffy. "Where are your dragon-hide gloves, Miss Summers?"

"I, er, forgot them," Buffy replied sheepishly.

"It always pays to be prepared, Miss Summers," the professor said with a withering glare. "Head on up to the hospital wing to get that checked out. Mr. Trimble, go with her to make sure she actually goes to the hospital wing."

"Yes, professor," Quentin said, digging around in his pocket. He handed Buffy a handkerchief before picking up his own bag along with Buffy's. "Here, wrap your finger in that, you're bleeding."

"It's not that bad," Buffy replied with a roll of her eyes, although she was downplaying it a little. While the bite was hardly gushing blood, it was definitely dripping and might leave a small, bloody trail in the snow for a few feet if she didn't wrap it.

"Still, could you wrap it please?" Quentin asked, his voice sounding desperate.

"Okay, fine," Buffy replied, wrapping her finger with the handkerchief, keeping her lips tight until they got out of the greenhouse. When they were out of earshot, she grinned at him before teasing. "So, is someone a little squeamish at the sight of blood?"

"Shut it," Quentin replied with a scowl.

"You know, that's probably not a good thing if you want to become a you-know-what," Buffy said. While the grounds were deserted, it was open enough for voices to carry across the grounds and neither of them really wanted to have awkward questions asked if someone overheard them.

"I've been thinking over the past couple of days," Quentin replied as they walked. "I don't want to be a you-know-what after all. The stuff you said really made me reconsider."

"Oh yeah?" Buffy asked. "What to you want to be now?"

"Demon hunter," Quentin replied with a grin.

"Crazy person say what?" Buffy asked, really quickly.

"What?" Quentin said, puzzled before he deciphered Buffy's words. He scowled at her. "Very funny, ha ha. What's so crazy about that?"

"You do know that demons are really big, really strong, and usually have sharp, pointy claws?" Buffy asked, arching an eyebrow at him.

"What are you getting at?" Quentin asked, glancing at her with narrowed eyes.

"Well, you know, you kind of aren't the type to hunt demons," Buffy replied carefully. "I mean, you faint at the sight of blood. It'll be kind of hard for you to fight demons and, y'know, dress your own wounds if you can't even stand the sight of blood."

"It's only other people's blood that bothers me," Quentin replied with a huff. "I got a lot of nosebleeds as a kid, so I know what I'm talking about. By the way, are you going to go to the hospital wing to get that bite checked out?"

"Are you going to make me?" Buffy asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"Well, I'd prefer it if you did," Quentin replied. "If Madam Pomfrey doesn't heal it, you won't be able to hold a quill properly for History of Magic this afternoon, which means you won't be able to take notes."

"You actually think I take notes in that class?" Buffy asked.

"You're not?" Quentin asked, surprised.

"Why do you think I've been asking to borrow your notes after class?" Buffy retorted.

"I thought it was because you just wanted to make sure you had got all of the facts because we both know I take better notes than you do," Quentin replied. "But I thought you had a basis and were just filling in the blanks."

"Um, oops?" Buffy offered sheepishly.

"I don't think I'm going to loan you my notes anymore," Quentin said with a sniff. "You're going to have to write your own notes from now on, which means you need to get that finger fixed so you can hold a quill."

Buffy seriously hoped Quentin wasn't being serious; she needed those notes, after all. It was so difficult for her to keep awake in that class - Professor Binns' voice was just so monotonous it made her zone out within ten minutes. Besides, she didn't like hospitals, never had.

"But I don't like hospitals," Buffy whined. "And you know how hard it is for me to keep awake in that class. I didn't know goblin rebellions could sound so boring."

"We all have to do things we don't want to," Quentin replied. "And it's not so bad. I mean, what would you rather have? A sore finger for a few days, or instant healing and pain relief? Seems like a no-brainer to me."

"Wouldn't be if you went through what I went through," Buffy replied sadly.

"Well, what did you go through?" Quentin asked. Buffy sighed and told the story of Der Kindestod, the demon that preyed on sick children and could only be seen by people suffering from fever. She started from the very beginning, from when she had watched her cousin and best friend die at the age of seven, up until she had slayed the thing over a year ago.

"Wow," Quentin said, squeezing Buffy's shoulder. "I'm so sorry. I"m not going to force you to go to the hospital wing if you're that against it. Do you want me to take extra notes in class today and you can copy them when your finger's better?"

"I should be okay," Buffy replied. "As you said, we all have to do things we don't want to do, and I kinda have to get over my fear somehow. Might as well face it now, right?"

"Well, if you're sure. I wouldn't want to force you into something you wouldn't want to do," Quentin said, chewing on his lip nervously.

"Let's just get this over and done with," Buffy said with a sigh as they continued up to the castle. There was still some time before lunch, and hopefully there wouldn't be a line at the hospital wing. Buffy wanted her lunch.

The walk up to the hospital wing was a rather difficult one; halfway up the bell for lunch rang and as one the rest of the students began to head to the Great Hall. For two floors and two staircases they were hiking against the crowd, almost losing each other in the crush of bodies. Finally, they made it up to the fourth floor, where the hospital wing was. When they got there, Buffy just stood in front of the door for a moment, making no move to go inside.

"Come on Buffy, let's get in there already," Quentin said with a sigh, pushing on Buffy's back to get her to move. She wouldn't budge. "You'll be in there five minutes and it won't hurt, I promise. The longer you stand out here, the less time for lunch we'll have."

"You know, I think it's feeling better," Buffy remarked, examining her finger. The handkerchief was stained red by now, but the bleeding had stopped. It still hurt like hell and she probably wouldn't be able to hold a quill until tomorrow, but no blood was of the good.

"Not going to work, Summers," Quentin said, standing behind Buffy and pushing harder, trying to force her into the hospital wing. As he was pushing, the door to the hospital wing swung open, revealing a young lady, probably a seventh year at the youngest, standing there.

"Can I help you?" she asked, arching an eyebrow. Buffy supposed that, if she hadn't been involved in the situation, it would be a pretty funny sight to see, Quentin pushing on her and Buffy being completely immovable.

"Uh hi," Quentin said, before narrowing his eyes at the girl. "Poppy?"

"In the flesh," the girl, Poppy, replied.

"What in the blue blazes are you doing here? I thought you left school last June," Quentin said.

"Mum decided that having me loaf around the house was a bad thing, so she took me on as her apprentice," Poppy replied with a shrug. "So, I guess I'm stuck here again. So, can I help you?"

"Yeah, Buffy got bitten by a Fanged Geranium and needs it fixed before History," Quentin replied. "She can't hold a quill – hurts too much."

"Let's see it then," Poppy said, holding out her hand.

"It's fine," Buffy replied.

"I'll be the judge of that," Poppy said. "Who's the medically trained professional here? I am. Who's the injured person? You are. Let me see your hand already. The sooner you let me see your hand, the sooner I'm going to let you leave."

"She's a tough one," Buffy remarked as she handed over her right hand. Poppy grabbed it and pulled it closer so that she could examine the injury.

"Come on, I have to poke you with my wand for a couple of minutes," Poppy said, dragging Buffy into the hospital wing. "Mum! You have to come and watch me heal someone!"

The older matron bustled out of the office, pursing her lips at her daughter before turning to Buffy, examining the wound on her finger.

"Quick healing spell should do the trick," Madam Pomfrey said. "Have at it, Poppy."

Poppy jabbed Buffy's finger enthusiastically with her wand, muttering a few words. The skin knitted back together instantly, although there was a slight scar. Madam Pomfrey took Buffy's hand and examined it again.

"Not bad, but there's a bit of scarring here," she told Poppy, before she turned to Buffy. "I have a cream that reduces scars if you're interested."

Buffy looked her finger over; the scar was barely noticeable, just a little white mark on her finger. If she stayed in Britain much longer, it would be even more invisible due to how pale she was getting. Plus, with Slayer healing, that scar would probably disappear in no time anyway.

"I think I can handle one itty bitty scar," Buffy said with a grin as she took her hand back. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, dear," Madam Pomfrey said. Poppy nodded, still looking a little chagrined because of the criticism she had received.

"See, I told you that it wouldn't be so bad," Quentin remarked with a cheeky grin.

"Shut up."

XOXOXO

Lunch was uneventful if a little rushed and History of Magic was as boring as ever. As hard as she tried, Buffy could not concentrate on the monotonous drone of Professor Binns' voice. Resting her head on her hand, Buffy stared off into space, trying to keep herself awake by keeping her imagination active. She hadn't fallen asleep in class yet, but there was a first time for everything.

The bell rang, bringing Buffy out of her stupor. As she gathered her things, a sheaf of notes written in tidy, masculine writing was pushed across the table.

"Here," Quentin said with a small smile. "Something to keep you busy during your study block."

"You're a lifesaver," Buffy said, giving Quentin a one-armed hug before snatching up the notes. "I'll bring them back in the same condition I found them in, promise."

"Are you heading to the library now?" Quentin asked.

"Ugh, yeah," Buffy replied with a wrinkle of her nose. It was funny; back in Sunnydale she spent a huge amount of time in the library, but here she wanted to avoid the place like the plague. Then again, this library didn't have her Watcher or sharp, pointy things to play with.

"Well, have fun with that. You could always sit in on Arithmacy with me, if you want," Quentin said with a grin.

"I think I'll take my chances with the library," Buffy replied. "If I end up not coming down to dinner, check the library. I might have fallen asleep in the corner."

"Like Madam Pince would let you sleep in the library," Quentin said with a snort. "She'd probably drag you out by your ears if she catches you."

"Trick is, not getting caught," Buffy said, tapping the side of her nose. "I'll see you later."

"Yeah, later," Quentin agreed with a grin before Buffy turned and left for the library while Quentin headed for his Arithmacy class.

Buffy's walk to the library was uneventful, much like most of her day. The library was nearly deserted; only a few people had a study block that period, Buffy supposed, as she found a table in one of the corners, spreading her materials out on the table so that she could both work and keep people from bothering her. If there was no room for someone else to sit at the table, it would mean that no one would disturb her.

At least, that was the plan.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?"

"What do you want?" Buffy asked, looking up at the smirking face above her. She had to resist the urge to smack the smug expression from his face. "I'm busy Tom, so make it fast."

"I wanted to see if you needed any help," Tom replied, sitting across from Buffy and picking up Quentin's notes. "History, Buffy? I would have thought someone like you would have dropped that class as soon as you could."

"I might not be able to handle myself in this world, but I think I can handle something as simple as copying some History notes and writing an essay on summoning charms," Buffy replied, her voice icy. "Or do you think you need to handle that for me, too?"

"You're still angry about that, aren't you?" Tom asked, sounding a little sheepish.

"No, I'm just mad at you for no reason," Buffy replied sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "Could you get to the point, like, now? As you can see I have a lot of work to do and not a whole lot of time to do it. I do _not _want August to practice her charms on me."

"Look, I'm sorry about that," Tom said, rubbing the back of his neck. Buffy could tell that this was difficult for him to say. Either that, or he was a really good actor. "It's just that… when I get possessive my mouth gets ahead of my brain. I didn't mean to say those things, they just… came out, I guess. To be honest, I kind of like how you're not like the other girls around here. The fact that you chose me and not one of the other boys drooling over you astounds me each and every day."

"Yeah, and I decided not to keep you," Buffy snarked. "Can you… just… go away? I don't want to talk to you right now."

"You will, though," Tom said. "Mark my words, you will."

XOXOXO

**Okay, chapter 22 is DONE. I STILL don't know how many chapters this thing is going to be, and it's definitely going to go over 100k. Is it sad that the prospect of having a 100k story under my belt makes me a little giddy? Eh, I don't really care if it is or not.**

**Anyway, the usual still applies. Let me know what you think, either by review or email. Or smoke signal. I'm not picky, as long as I get opinions. It's the only way I can get better, after all.**

**Thanks for reading!**


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Nearly a month had passed since Tom had made his promise in the library. He hadn't tried to speak to her, but that didn't mean contact was non-existent. Notes and gifts had been filtering in every couple of days, all addressed to her. She hadn't touched any of them; they were currently sitting at the bottom of her trunk, unopened. The silence in Potions class was more than a little awkward, but Professor Slughorn wouldn't let her switch seats with anyone. Even if she could, she doubted any switch she made would be for the better – there were several nasty or annoying people in her class that she'd rather not sit with if she could help it.

"Why don't you tell him to stop it already?" Quentin asked, curious, as Buffy extracted yet another small package from a school owl's leg, this one with what looked like an assortment of Honeyduke's sweets. "You know, rough him up if he doesn't listen to words. You seemed to have some control over him."

"He doesn't seem like the type to stop what he's doing, unless he gets what he wants," Buffy replied with a sigh, rubbing her temples. "I just don't have the energy to deal with him right now."

"So, you're just going to wait it out?" Quentin asked. "Because that doesn't seem like you. You're more of a kick arse, take names kind of girl."

"I'm using some advice my mom gave me when I was a kid," Buffy replied with a shrug. "Ignore the bullies and they'll eventually leave you alone. They're looking for a reaction and when they don't get one they'll get bored and leave you alone."

"And you think that'll work for stalkers?" Quentin asked, arching an eyebrow.

"I'm hoping," Buffy replied, although Angelus' behaviour before she sent him to hell pulled at the back of her mind. Although, if she really thought about it, he probably knew that he was getting a reaction from her, even when she tried not to show her true feelings.

"Come on, we should probably head to Potions soon," Quentin said, popping the last piece of muffin into his mouth before grabbing his book bag. "Are you coming?"

"You go on ahead," Buffy said, waving him on. "You know, the less time I spend in that classroom with Tom the happier I'll be."

"All right, I'll see you in a bit," Quentin said with a wave before turning and leaving the Gryffindor table. Buffy grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl in front of her and began munching on it as she read her Potions textbook, trying to figure out what Professor Slughorn was going to be teaching them that morning, because he rarely gave hints unless it was a particularly difficult potion. Because she was so engrossed with her reading, Buffy didn't realize someone was coming to sit across from her until they plopped down and greeted her.

"Hello there," Ursula said sweetly, trying to get a glance at what Buffy was reading. "What do you have there?"

"Potions textbook," Buffy replied. "What can I do for you, Ursula?"

"I just thought I'd have a little chat with you," Ursula replied. "Do you have a minute?"

"I suppose," Buffy replied, closing the book so that she could give Ursula her full attention, although she really didn't want to. "Go ahead, talk."

"Well, I'd like to preface this by saying that I like you, I have no problems with you being here, bettering yourself by learning magic," Ursula began, with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "But let me ask you this. Don't you think you're trying too hard?"

"You're kidding, right?" Buffy asked, arching an eyebrow. "You haven't seen my grades, have you? Except for Potions and Transfiguration, I'm doing average at best. Except Charms and Care of Magical Creatures. I suck at those."

"Oh, I'm not talking about your grades, Buffy dear. You can have the highest grades in the school and no one will care because of, well, what you are," Ursula continued, her voice still sickeningly sweet, her smile still not reaching her eyes. "Unless, of course, you have connections. Which you obviously are beginning to form."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Buffy asked, narrowing her eyes.

"Your allegiances with some of the more prominent people in the school," Ursula replied. "While Riddle has no real status to speak of because he's an orphan, the others you have aligned yourself with are members of the more prominent members of our society. One might think you're trying to climb your way up past your station."

"Climb my way up past my station?" Buffy quoted, arching an eyebrow. "Make with the 'splainy. Now."

"You are a half blood at best, although I suspect you're a Muggle-born," Ursula continued. "While I have no issues with Muggle-borns coming here and learning magic, they also need to learn and maintain their place around here. Which, in case you hadn't realized, is not around the pureblooded students."

"I don't have to listen to this," Buffy said. "It seems you're the only person who has a problem with it."

"Oh, I'm not the only one with a problem with it," Ursula said with a laugh. "I'm just the only one brave enough to say it to your face, rather than gossip behind your back."

"I'm sure," Buffy said with a roll of her eyes.

"Hey, I'm just doing this to protect you," Ursula said, reaching across the table to hold Buffy's hand. At least, she would have if Buffy hadn't removed it from the table. "No one wants you to get hurt, especially not me. It's just something for you to think about, all right?"

"Yeah, sure, think about," Buffy replied quietly. "I gotta go. Class."

"Of course," Ursula said with a wave. "Remember what I said, Buffy."

"Kind of hard to forget," Buffy muttered, shoving her Potions book into her bag and grabbing the remainder of her apple before stalking off towards the dungeons. She almost got to the classroom, too, until someone grabbed her and pulled her into an alcove.

This time, Buffy was ready and not in the mood to wait around to see if the person abducting her was friend or foe. Right hand balled into a tight fist, it made a connection with her assailant's stomach, causing the very obvious male person to double over in pain and make an 'oof'-ing sound. She recognized the voice, and smirked in satisfaction when she realized who it was.

"What in blue blazes do you think you're doing, woman?" Tom wheezed, still bent over double.

"Protecting myself, like I should have every single time you decided to haul me off into a dark corner," Buffy snarked, crossing her arms across her chest. "What do you want?"

"Well, at least you didn't go for the face this time," Tom said, straightening up. "And I wanted to make sure you got my notes and gifts."

"You couldn't ask me that in class?" Buffy asked. "'Cause, you know, we kind of sit next to each other."

"You wouldn't have talked to me anyway," Tom said.

"What makes you think I'm going to talk to you now?" Buffy asked, arching an eyebrow.

"You _are_ talking to me now," Tom pointed out with a smirk.

"Point," Buffy conceded, after blinking at him for a few moments. "Anyway, yes, I got your presents, no, I haven't opened them and since I really don't want to deal with you right now, you might want to get out of my way before I decide to give you a black eye."

She tried to push past him but found herself stopped by a strong grip on her arm. She turned and glared at him, but didn't remove his hand from her arm.

"Seriously, with the grabby?" she asked, arching an eyebrow. "Great way for more bodily harm to come your way."

"What's wrong?" Tom asked, concerned.

"Nothing," Buffy replied, removing her arm from his grasp. She wrapped her arms around her stomach and looked away before repeating her reply. "Nothing."

"You're lying," Tom said.

"And?" Buffy asked. "What if I don't want to tell the truth right now? I don't want to tell you what's wrong, so I'm not going to."

"Was Abraxas bothering you again?" Tom asked. "I'll talk to him, tell him to leave you alone. He shouldn't be bothering you."

"It wasn't Malfoy," Buffy replied. "Just… drop it, okay? It's not important."

"It's important if it's bothering you," Tom countered.

"Doesn't mean I want you to know about it," Buffy replied. "Can we just, I don't know, go to class? I'd rather not fail, thanks."

"Missing one class won't make you fail," Tom said with a roll of his eyes. "Besides, we're late anyways. Wouldn't want to disrupt the class with our grand entrance, you know."

"Then I'll just head up to the Charms classroom and sit outside there until the next period," Buffy replied.

"And if a professor catches you?" Tom asked. "What of it then? You don't have a pass to be out of class and would surely get detention if caught."

"Then maybe we should head to Potions then," Buffy suggested. "Because I'm not going to be stuck in this alcove with you for the next hour."

"You used to enjoy my company," Tom said with something that, had it been anyone else, would have been interpreted as a pout.

"Are you forgetting the whole thing in the Forest with you turning into a chauvinistic butthole?" Buffy asked.

"I apologized for that," Tom said. "And I've been apologizing for the past month. I am deeply sorry that I said those things and I truly do not believe that you need to be 'handled'. Why won't you believe me?"

"Probably because you seem like the type to not give up when there's something or someone you really, really want," Buffy replied. "And you know what? I'm done with crazy psycho stalker boyfriends. One was enough, and I got rid of him. Not too keen on having another."

"I hardly think sending small tokens of my affection qualifies as crazy psycho stalker behaviour," Tom said with a roll of his eyes.

"No, but you hide in alcoves and yank me into them when I walk by. You follow me around. You're possessive, like I'm a treasure to be locked away. You put down my friends, which, by the way makes me want to smack you, and it's all making me rather uncomfortable," Buffy said with a sigh.

"You're right when you say I am possessive," Tom said, taking a step towards her. Buffy took a step back to avoid him, although she didn't have far to go before she hit the wall. "I lived in a place for eleven years where nothing was solely mine and everything was shared. You must forgive me."

"Point," Buffy conceded. "But you have to realize that I'm not some shiny toy to be locked away and only played with by you. I have friends outside of you, us, and I would like to spend time with them as much as I possibly can. I don't want to lose them."

"I suppose I can try, although I do not like the idea of sharing you," Tom said with a scowl. He took another step forward, and Buffy took another step back. She could feel the wall behind her; two steps, at most, and she'd be right up against it. "As for the alcoves, because you seem so adamant against a relationship with me because of our houses, it seemed to best way for me to spend time with you without everything coming out into the open. Well, except for that one day. Which you still haven't paid me back for."

"Hmm?" Buffy asked, confused.

"That day, after you found out your parents died," Tom reminded her. "I kissed you in the middle of the hallway. If the rumours started spreading that we were an item, you would win and I would have to admit I was wrong. If there were no rumours, I won and you would accompany me on the next Hogsmeade weekend."

"Oh right, that," Buffy said with a wrinkle of her nose.

"Have you heard any rumours?" Tom asked.

"Well, except for Malfoy, Quentin and one other person, no one's really mentioned it," Buffy replied.

"And who is this other person?" Tom asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"Not important," Buffy replied, waving it off as Tom took another step towards her. Instinctively, she took another step back, wider this time, and found herself against the wall.

"As for calling your friends names, I do it because I don't believe they are good enough for you," Tom said, closing the distance between them. "Well, mostly Trimble, and that's just because he wants you as much as I do."

"We've worked that out," Buffy said as Tom trailed a finger down one of her arms. It was covered with thick robe and long-sleeved blouse, but that finger left a trail of fire on her skin despite the layers. "Besides, some people think I'm not nearly good enough for them."

"Who's been saying that?" Tom asked.

"Not important. I'm trying to keep it from bothering me so you shouldn't worry about it," Buffy replied, hoping he'd let it drop for now.

"I'll let it go for now, but I'm not going to like it," Tom said, and she got a rare glimpse of the dangerous person he could be, but rarely showed around her, as he balled one hand into a fist and his jaw clenched slightly.

"That's all I ask," Buffy replied with a small smile. "So, you were saying?"

"And lastly, yes, I do want you. I want your fire, I want your soul, I want _you_," Tom said, wrapping an arm around her waist. He dipped down and kissed her once, almost chastely on the lips, before withdrawing. "But only if you want me. If you don't, I'll leave you be and the only kind of relationship we will have is our Potions partnership. I promise."

Buffy looked up at him, searching his eyes. They were sincere, conveying the truth behind his words. They were begging her to believe him, to take him back despite his faults. Deciding to throw caution to the wind, she pushed up onto her toes and pressed her lips against his. It had been meant to be a light kiss, as Tom's had been, but something came over him.

Lips and tongues began duelling as Tom's hands began to wander all over the place before they settled, one underneath Buffy's leg to hike it around his waist and one in her hair, taking out the ribbon she had used to tie it back in a curly ponytail. Buffy whimpered slightly, clinging to Tom for dear life as he was holding her up; the only part of her body touching the floor were the toes of one of her feet, seeing as the other leg was halfway wrapped around Tom.

He pressed her up against the wall, moving to kiss her neck as he extracted his hand from her hair and moved it to her other leg, wrapping both of them around his waist. It was this movement that set of a few alarm bells in Buffy's mind, knowing that it was going to go too far very quickly.

"Tom, we have to stop," Buffy said, breathlessly.

"Why?" he asked, his voice also breathless as he trailed his teeth across her throat.

"Do you really want our first time to be in an alcove off a dungeon hallway," Buffy asked, tugging on the hairs on the back of his head to get him to stop attacking her neck. He was getting dangerously close to the mangled scar on her neck and she didn't want him remembering it was there.

"Do we have to?" Tom asked with a groan, burying his face into the crook of her neck before helping her back to her feet.

"Unless you want to give everyone a peepshow, then yes," Buffy replied.

"I don't know, it might do them some good to show them how it's done," Tom said with a waggle of his eyebrows, causing Buffy to smack him on the shoulder.

"And how would you know how it's done?" she asked, arching an eyebrow.

"How would you know?" Tom asked, mimicking her expression.

"We're not talking about me, we're talking about you," Buffy said, straightening herself out, before moving to flatten Tom's hair a little. "How do I look?"

"Thoroughly snogged," Tom replied with a smirk before grabbing Buffy's hand and kissing her palm. "When can we meet again?"

"I don't know," Buffy replied with a sigh. "I guess we could start up the Potions tutoring again?"

"But you don't really need it anymore," Tom said.

"Quentin and the others don't know that," Buffy replied.

"I suppose it could work," Tom said thoughtfully.

"Now, seriously, how do I look?" Buffy asked, running her fingers through her hair. "And where did my hair ribbon go?"

"I think that hair ribbon is long gone, dear. And if you found it, would you really want to put it back into your hair?" Tom asked as he ran his fingers through said hair, combing it out, before straightening her tie and checking to make sure that everything was where it should be. "There, beautiful. You shouldn't get any questions."

"Well, except for the fact that I skipped class without explanation," Buffy retorted with a snort.

"You were upset about something earlier, right?" Tom asked. Buffy nodded. "Use that as an excuse. Say you were too upset to come to class and that you needed some time to think. If Professor Slughorn gives you trouble about it, let me know and I'll talk to him about it."

"Okay, yeah, that works," Buffy replied. "I'll see you tomorrow night?"

"See you then," Tom said with a grin, dipping down to kiss her one more time before disappearing from the alcove just before the bell rang. Buffy waited until she heard the voices of her fellow students before she emerged, catching sight of Quentin as he looked around worriedly before his eyes caught hers.

"Where the hell have you been?" he asked, stalking over to her, concern written all over his face. "You never miss class."

"Ursula said something that upset me and I just… I needed time to think," Buffy replied, voice hitching a little.

"What did that cow say now?" Quentin asked, exasperated. "And I thought you were smart enough not to listen to her."

"I don't want to think about it, okay?" Buffy said, pleading a little. She really didn't want to think about it, how the other girl had planted the seed of doubt. How maybe she wasn't good enough to be friends with these people. She was lying to them, after all, and might have to leave them at any moment, although that seemed unlikely, from what Dumbledore and Dippet said.

"You and I are going to talk, later, after dinner," Quentin said seriously.

"How did I know you were going to say that?" Buffy asked, rolling her eyes before linking arms with Quentin. "Come on, let's head to Charms. Hopefully I won't send Professor Flitwick flying across the room today."

Quentin snorted in laughter before drawing her closer, glancing over at her after a moment.

"Hey, I have a question for you," Quentin said.

"Shoot," Buffy replied, curious. She was sure she didn't have any love bites, but without a mirror in that alcove she couldn't be sure.

"Where did your hair ribbon go?"

XOXOXO

Two weeks. They were able to keep the secret for a measly two weeks this time around, and it was all due to Quentin's insatiable curiosity to blame. Buffy had been able to explain away the lack of hair ribbon after that first Potions class – she'd said she'd changed her mind about what to do with her hair, and decided to wear it down instead – but there was no way she would have been able to explain away what he had seen next.

Buffy and Tom had had two nights uninterrupted, doing whatever they could think of in their little dungeon classroom. Playing games, doing homework, talking, kissing. Not the most romantic place for a date, but they really didn't have a lot of options. They still wanted to keep their relationship a bit of a secret, so they couldn't really acknowledge each other's presence in public, so that left waving at each other across the Great Hall out. They knew that their housemates probably wouldn't agree with their relationship, so they couldn't spend time with each other in their common rooms. The only class they had together was Potions, where they did get a little hand holding under the table, but they couldn't do a lot of it lest they arouse suspicions. So, they were left to their tutoring sessions which, while they did consist of a little tutoring, because Buffy still needed to get all of her subjects down for her OWLs at the end of the year, they were mostly used to get to know each other.

Near the end of their third evening together, Buffy and Tom were seated on a sofa that Tom had transfigured from one of the stools a while ago, claiming it would be more comfortable for studying than the table and stools in the room. While he was correct on that point, it also made it easier to snuggle and do other things without laying on cold stone floor.

The evening Quentin had found them, they were on the couch together, Tom laying down and Buffy on top of him. Robes had been discarded, folded neatly on one of the tables, Buffy's tie had been loosened and Tom's was gone altogether, flung over the back of the couch. Buffy's lips, tongue and teeth were assaulting Tom's neck as one of his hands kneaded a breast over her uniform and the other rested on her behind, again over her uniform.

It was in this position that Quentin found them.

He knocked on the door before pushing it open, not waiting for a verbal signal to enter. Neither Buffy nor Tom had any time to stand up or even get out of their compromising position before Quentin entered the room, shock evident on his face. His face started off pale, turned green and then went purple with rage.

"Buffy," he said, his voice measured, quiet. "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like she's doing, Trimble?" Tom asked with a smirk.

"I didn't ask you, Riddle. I asked Buffy," Quentin said as Buffy removed herself from Tom's person. "I thought you two broke up."

"We had a fight. It's different from breaking up," Buffy replied.

"He's a snake, Buff. You and I both know that," Quentin said. "Do you really think his possessiveness and his other unsavoury characteristics have just disappeared?"

"I think you're the one being possessive," Tom said, coming up behind Buffy and wrapping his arms around her. "Jealous, too. Can't have her, so no one can. Why don't you run along and let us finish what we were doing, aye?"

"Not this again," Buffy said with a sigh. "Again with the male posturing bullshit. Next thing you know, you're both going to be peeing on me to mark your scent before fighting to the death."

"You know, that doesn't sound like a bad idea," Tom said. "Well, the fighting to the death. Not so much with the peeing thing, because, ew. And you've become a bad influence on me, because before I met you I would not be speaking like this."

"I never thought I'd agree with the snake, but I do," Quentin said with a curl of his lip. "Both with the fighting to the death and the speaking thing. Can't you learn proper English, woman?"

"Seriously, all of this is going on and you're going on about how I talk?" Buffy asked. "I thought you liked the way I talked."

"You butcher the English language, Buffy," Quentin said with a roll of his eyes. "I put up with it because you're pretty but now I might as well tell the truth, despite the fact that you've been lying to me. I find your way of speaking irritating."

"Got anything else you want to say to me?" Buffy asked. "Since you're being honest and all."

"You're a tease and a flirt. Not surprised Malfoy practically called you a whore," Quentin spat. "You flirt to get what you want but never follow through."

The words Quentin was saying were cutting through her. Why had he pretended to be her friend for so long, if this was how he felt?

"Now do you see why I always put him down?" Tom asked, tightening his arms around her. "I could see what you couldn't, what a horrid, two faced person he is."

"Shut up, both of you," Buffy said, her voice quiet as she extracted herself from Tom's arms. She grabbed her robe from the table. "I… I have to go. I can't deal with this right now."

And so she left. She walked as far and as fast as she could without arousing suspicion, thankful that neither boy had decided to follow her. Up and up she went until she got to the main floor, where she left through the front doors and out onto the grounds. Already numb, she was unaware of the chill temperature as she made her way down to the lake. She sat at its edge, shivering as she drew her robe around her to ward off the cold.

"What 'n the blue blazes are yeh doin' out here?" said a somewhat familiar voice. Buffy turned around to see Hagrid standing behind her, definitely more appropriately dressed for the cold than she was. As soon as that question was uttered, Buffy burst into tears, the teardrops streaking down her cheeks and she sobbed. Looking panicked, Hagrid closed the distance between them and picked her up, somewhat surprised that she didn't resist, just continued to cry. "Come on, let's get yeh ou' of the cold 'ere, you're freezin'."

And with that Hagrid carried Buffy to his cabin at the edge of the woods, wondering what was wrong with the pixie-like girl and hoping that he could help her out.

XOXOXO

**Can I just say, I kind of love this chapter. I've been waiting for ages for this point since I plotted out the last legs of this fic. I really hope you enjoyed it and really hope I don't get flamed too badly for the, ah, name calling and general assholery of Quentin. All will be explained.**


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

Hagrid took her to his cabin at the edge of the forest, getting her out of the cold as fast as he could. He deposited her in a chair at his table before tending to the fire and put a kettle on to boil. Buffy blinked, wiping the tears from her eyes as she took in her surroundings. It was a small, one-room cabin with a table and four chairs dominating most of the kitchen area, a bed on one side of the room, a chest of drawers next to the door and a fireplace across from the door.

"So, you don't life at the castle?" Buffy asked, looking around.

"No. Dumbledore thought it'd be easier if I lived out there," Hagrid replied. "I don' mind. I like the quiet. Now, why don' yeh tell me why yeh were outside, all alone, in this cold?"

"Got into a bit of a fight and outside seemed to be the best place for me to go," Buffy replied with a shrug. "I just needed to get away, you know?"

"Aye, I do," Hagrid replied with a nod, plonking down two mugs onto the table and filling them with hot water before dropping a teabag into each. "How do yeh take yer tea, Miss Summers?"

"Cream and sugar," Buffy replied. "And didn't I tell you to call me Buffy?"

"Yeh might have," Hagrid replied as he slid one of the large mugs across the table. "Now, do yeh want to tell me about what's botherin' yeh? Might not be able to help, but I'm good at listenin'."

"Well, a lot of things have been going on the last couple of weeks and tonight was just the last straw," Buffy replied with a sigh. She started telling Hagrid about the last couple of weeks – her discussion with Ursula, getting back together with Tom, the sneaking around, the fight with Quentin. Everything. Hagrid was the first person she had told about the Ursula thing; she thought that if she ignored it, it might go away. the last thing she wanted was confirmation that Ursula's ramblings were true. Her friends hadn't given her any indication that they shared Ursula's point of view, so Buffy took that as a good thing.

"Well, yeh see, there's this thing about Ursula Brown," Hagrid said, taking a sip of his tea. "She got no problems with people if they stay in their boxes. Yeh can do what yeh want in that box, but try to move to another one and she'll be all over tha'. She was like tha' when I started at Hogwarts."

"Did you try to make friends with the purebloods, too?" Buffy asked, arching an eyebrow at him.

"No, no, nothin' like that," Hagrid replied, averting his gaze. "She got on me because I had the guts to even come to Hogwarts. Apparently, people like shouldn' learn magic."

"And what are people like you?" Buffy asked. Now that she was alone with Hagrid, she realized that her senses buzzed differently than when she was around fully human witches and wizards. what kind of creature could Hagrid be?

"Depends. Are yeh goin' to slay me if I tell yeh?" Hagrid asked, his eyes shifty.

"I haven't made with the stabby with the pointy objects yet," Buffy replied with a shrug. "Unless you're a vampire or an evil demon, I don't see any slayage in your future."

"Yeh see, I'm not entirely human," Hagrid began, twisting his hands in his lap. "Me mum was a giant."

"Giants exist?" Buffy asked, her eyes wide. She supposed that it was entirely possible; after all, vampires, demons, witches, wizards and all sorts of other creatures existed. Why couldn't giants?

"Yeh aren' going to stop bein' friends with me?" Hagrid asked, apprehensive.

"Why would I?" Buffy shot back, curious.

"Giants have a history of bein' violent," Hagrid said. "Aren' yeh scared of me flyin' off the handle at yeh or somethin'?"

"Are _you _violent?" Buffy asked. Hagrid shook his head. "Then I'm not worried. Besides, I think I could handle you. Supernatural speed and strength, remember?"

"Yeh, I suppose so," Hagrid said, a cautious smile gracing his face. Due to his size, it was easy to forget that he was only fourteen years old.

"Besides, it's kind of like werewolves, right?" Buffy asked.

"Know many werewolves, do yeh?" Hagrid asked, arching an eyebrow at her.

"No, just the one," Buffy replied. "His name is Oz. He was dating my best friend when I left, and I hope they're still together. He's a great guy and loves Willow to bits. Figuratively, not literally."

"Tha' makes me feel a bit better," Hagrid said with a relieved sigh. "Now, abou' your problem. I'm not goin' to pretend I know everythin' about your issues, because I don't. But tha' doesn't sound like the Quentin I know."

"Love makes you do the wacky," Buffy muttered.

"He's in love with yeh?" Hagrid asked. "How do yeh know?"

"He said he had feelings for me, a while ago," Buffy replied with a sigh. "I told him that I wasn't interested, but he's just not getting it."

"It prob'ly doesn't help that yer datin' his nemesis," Hagrid murmured.

"If I had any control over the chemistry and feelings and stuff, I'd turn it off," Buffy replied. "And it's not like we made out in front of him. We kept it a secret!"

"That don' matter," Hagrid said with a shake of his head. "Are yeh goin' to talk to him?"

"Not if I can help it," Buffy replied. "It still stings."

"Can' say I didn' try," Hagrid said with a shrug. "As for Riddle, 'e's a hors of a different color entirely. He'll do anything to keep wha' he likes around. He got me expelled."

"He _what_?" Buffy exclaimed. "How?"

"Las' year, there was this monster skulkin' around, attacking students, petrifyin' them. One girl died. Riddle knew I was keepin' a baby acromantula in the dungeons and he told Dippet. Said it was the monster attackin' the students," Hagrid replied. "I was able to get Aragog out, but they expelled me. Dumbledore kept me on as groundskeeper. Great man, Dumbledore."

"So did, er, Aragog do it?" Buffy asked, wondering what kind of creature this Aragog was.

"No! He'd never hurt anyone! And anyone who knows anythin' about creatures knows that acromantulas don't petrify their prey," Hagrid replied with a vehement shake of his head.

"Do you know what did?" Buffy asked.

"No," Hagrid replied. "Aragog knows, but he won' tell me. Somethin' big."

"I've got a lot to think about," Buffy said, finishing off her tea, which she had been sipping all though the evening.

"D'you want me to walk yeh back to the castle?" Hagrid asked, his cheeks going pink.

"Sure, I'd like that," Buffy replied with a smile. Hagrid took her mug and set it on the counter before turning to the chest of drawers by the door.

"It's a little chilly ou' there," he said, extracting a mass of black fabric from one of the drawers. "Here, its' my old school cloak. It doesn't fit my anymore. I know it won' fit you, but it'll be better than going out there with nothin'."

"Thank you," Buffy said, slipping into the cloak. As predicted, Buffy was swimming in the fabric, but it was thick and warm. All she needed to do was make sure she didn't trip over the hem and fall on her face.

"Ready to go?" Hagrid asked.

"As I'll ever be," Buffy replied. "Let's get this over with."

The two friends left the small cabin and headed up to the castle. It wasn't near curfew yet, so there was little chance she'd get detention on her way up to the Gryffindor common room. During their visit, the temperature had dropped even further, and Buffy was very glad for the cloak that Hagrid had loaned her. It was a quiet walk up to the castle and before long they were standing just inside the castle doors. Buffy moved to take off the cloak and give it back, but Hagrid stopped her.

"Keep it," he said, patting her on the shoulder. "All it's doin' is collectin' moths if it stays with me. At least you might get some use out of it."

"Thank you, Buffy said thankfully, wrapping the cloak around herself. "Well, thanks for everything. Good night."

"Any time, my door is always open to yeh," Hagrid said with a grin. "Give Quentin a cuff around the head for me, will yeh?"

"I'll think about it," Buffy replied with a small smile, tears springing to her eyes again. "'Night."

Buffy turned and headed up to Gryffindor Tower, thankfully not meeting anyone on her way. She supposed that everyone was trying to avoid the chilly corridors if at all possible, and she couldn't really blame them. She finally reached toe portrait of the Fat Lady and, after giving he the password, stumbled into the common room.

"Where have you been?" Terrence asked as soon as she had righted herself, having tripped on the hem of Hagrid's over-large cloak.

"Went for a walk," Buffy replied with a shrug before digging herself out of the cloak and flinging it onto the back of a chair. She looked around, trying and failing to find a particular familiar face. "Have you seen Quentin?"

"He's out patrolling with Minerva," Terrence said as Buffy flopped into a chair nearby. "Is everything all right?"

"Yeah, why?" Buffy asked, hoping Terrence wouldn't pick up on the fact that she was lying. Everything was certainly _not _all right, and there wasn't really any way she could think of to fix it. Well, besides dumping Tom, but that wouldn't really solve anything. Quentin had still said all of those hurtful things, and even if he had said them in the heat of the moment she wondered how many of the things he actually did dislike about her.

"You're acting… wonky, I guess," Terrence replied with a shrug.

"How so?" Buffy asked, quirking an eyebrow at him. Out of all of her new friends, Terrence had always seemed, to her, to be the least observant than the rest of them. She had expected this kind of conversation with Minerva or Augusta, but definitely not Terrence.

"I can't really explain it. I'm a male, I'm not good at explaining these things," Terrence replied, raising his hands helplessly. "You're just… off today. Tell me what's wrong."

"Quentin and I got into a fight," Buffy replied with a sigh. She had hoped that she would be able to avoid all of this and just pass Quentin awkwardly in the hallways. While she was sure her friends would notice it, in five months it would be a distant memory anyway.

"Oh yeah?" Terrence asked. "Over what?"

"I've been seeing someone and he wasn't… particularly happy about it," Buffy replied. "Part of me wants to think he only said what he said because he was mad and love makes you do the wacky, but I'm not sure. You don't think I'm a social climbing whore who butchers the English language, do you?"

"No," Terrence replied, his brow furrowed. "Who said that? _Why _would someone say that?"

"Well, Ursula said the social climbing thing – something about rising above my station," Buffy replied with a roll of her eyes, as if she found it ridiculous, although it really did bother her. She just hoped that the other girl wasn't right about it. "Abraxas Malfoy said something about me being a hoebag and Quentin agreed with it and tacked on the English thing."

"That doesn't sound like him at all," Terrence said, stroking his chin as the portrait hole opened, admitting Minerva and Quentin into the common room.

"Yeah, that's what Hagrid said," Buffy replied with a sigh.

"Look, wait right here. I'm going to go talk to him," Terrence said, getting up. "Something weird is going on here."

He went and marched up to Quentin and practically dragged him to one of the more deserted corners of the common room. Buffy wanted to watch, but someone sitting down next to her brought her attention back to her area.

"What's going on over there?" Minerva asked, jerking her chin in the direction of Quentin and Terrence.

"Quentin and I got into a fight earlier today and Terrence is trying to figure out what's going on," Buffy replied. Both girls watched the boys in the corner; it looked like stern words and hand gestures were the only things being exchanged, for which Buffy was thankful. While she wouldn't have been able to stop any spells if they went flying, a fistfight would end up with people getting hurt if she got involved.

The discussion didn't last long before Quentin threw up his hands and stalked up to his room. Buffy could hear a door upstairs slam as Terrence walked across the common room to where Buffy and Minerva were seated.

"Well, that didn't go as well as I thought it would," Terrence said as he flopped down on the couch next to Minerva. "You could have told me you were seeing a Slytherin."

"You're seeing a Slytherin?" Minerva asked, staring at Buffy incredulously. "Why do I have this feeling I missed something?"

"Our little Miss Summers here is seeing a Slytherin, one Mr. Tom Riddle," Terrence said.

"Oh, you can't be serious," Minerva said, narrowing her eyes at Terrence before turning her attention to Buffy. "Oh please, tell me it's not true, that this is an early and rather bad April Fool's joke."

Buffy sighed. There wasn't really any point in denying it. Quentin didn't lie about this kind of stuff, and before long the rest of the school would know. To be honest, Buffy was surprised the entire school didn't know already; secrets didn't stay secrets for long around Hogwarts, as her arrival had been kept a secret for mere days before it had gotten around the school.

"What would you say if I told you that were true?" Buffy asked cautiously. She braced herself, ready for the yelling and the kicking out and general hurting of the feelings.

"Well, I'd probably haul you off to the hospital wing to get you checked out," Terrence replied. "Body switching, polyjuice, madness… just to cover all of our bases. If you checked out fine, I'd still probably call you a nutter. No self-respecting Gryffindor would be caught dead with a Slytherin unless they absolutely had to."

"Well, it started out because we were forced to spend time together," Buffy muttered. "What about you, Minerva?"

"I'll admit he's not the worst of the bunch, but he's still a Slytherin," Minerva replied, chewing on her lip as she pushed her glasses up on her nose. "He's still slimy, he's still manipulative, he's still an elitist. But I suppose he could have some good qualities buried, er, _very _deep down."

"Would you guys disown me or call me names if this were true?" Buffy asked timidly.

"Well, no, but we wouldn't be happy about it," Terrence replied cautiously.

"We wouldn't be happy about what?" August asked as she entered, sitting on the arm of Buffy's chair.

"If Buffy were seeing a Slytherin," Minerva replied. "And not any Slytherin, but Tom Riddle."

"Well, he _is _a Prefect," August said diplomatically. "He can't be that bad if Professor Dippet entrusted him with the safety of the school."

"Well, there's not a lot to choose from, is there?" Terrence asked, arching an eyebrow. "I mean come on, they're _Slytherins_. Dirty, rotten evil Slytherins. Did you know that nearly every bad or evil wizard has come from Slytherin?"

"Just because the evil ones come from Slytherin, doesn't mean all Slytherins are evil," Buffy shot back.

"Why are you suddenly being all defensive of Slytherins?" August asked, perplexed.

"Probably because I'm seeing a Slytherin," Buffy muttered, but it was loud enough for the three seventh years to hear.

"Wait, what?" August asked, confused. "Where have I been?"

"Where have we all been," Terrence muttered to himself. "How long has this been going on, anyway?"

"Um… since New Years?" Buffy said, not entirely sure. "I mean, we got into a huge fight about a month and a half ago, but we got back together a couple of weeks ago."

"And you don't have a spell on you or anything?" August asked.

"Nope," Buffy replied, shaking her head.

"Has anyone been tampering with your food?" Minerva asked, seriously.

"Not that I'm aware," Buffy replied with a shrug. "I mean, nothing's been tasting weird or anything."

"Are you Buffy Summers, sixth year transfer student and resident of Gryffindor?" Terrence asked.

"_Yes_," Buffy said with a roll of her eyes. "What does this have to do with anything?"

"Well, this leaves us with one solution," Terrence said gravely.

"Oh yeah?" Buffy asked. "And what's that?"

"You're totally and completely off your rocker," Terrence replied decisively.

XOXOXO

A couple of weeks had passed since the implosion that was Quentin and Buffy. Quentin still refused to talk to her, even going so far as to change seats in Defence Against the Dark Arts and Transfiguration. Minerva, Terrence and Augusta all still believed she was crazy, but they didn't make any comments about her relationship with Tom if they could help it. Tom was as he ever was, as supportive as he could manage despite his rather stunted social graces. While he could be charming when he needed to be, he still had a habit of putting his foot in it, although those instances seemed to be happening at intervals that were fewer and farther between. She still continued many of her tutoring sessions and her training lessons with Professor Giles, which kept a rather busy schedule.

"What are your plans after Hogwarts?" Professor Giles asked one evening as Buffy was sparring with the animated dummy.

"Don't you think it's a little silly for me to be planning for the future?" Buffy asked, blocking the dummy's sword attacks with her own blade. "I mean, hello, Slayer here. Short life expectancy, remember? Need to live every day like it's your last?"

"In case you hadn't noticed, Miss Summers, you're not the only Slayer in this time anymore," Professor Giles said with a sniff. "You now have the option of leading a normal life now."

"I wasn't the only Slayer in my time, either," Buffy replied with a snort. "Did I get time off? No."

"How were there two Slayers in your time?" Professor Giles asked, perplexed.

"I died," Buffy replied. "There was a prophecy that said I was going to die on my way to defeat The Master. It happened, but only for a minute. A friend of mine brought me back with mouth-to-mouth. I got back up, dusted The Master and still had enough time to party. Go me."

"I've noticed that you've been distracted about something," Professor Giles said as she watched Buffy spar.

"Oh yeah?" Buffy asked as the dummy kicked her in the stomach, sending her reeling back a couple of feet. "What makes you say that?"

"Well, for one, the dummy keeps getting past your defences, and I haven't brought its difficulty level up in the last month or so," Professor Giles said, waving her wand so that the dummy would stop moving. "And another, Mr. Trimble has stopped accompanying you. Is this going to affect you when you're out in the field?"

"No," Buffy replied with a scowl. "If anything, it should make me more effective because I won't be worried about him getting in the way."

"See, this is why Potentials and Slayers shouldn't have contact with the outside world," Professor Giles said with a sigh. "Civilians are only distractions."

"Well I'm sorry, Professor, if my Watchers decided to do it differently," Buffy replied. "Since I wasn't found until I was Called, my first Watcher decided staying in school was the best idea, and my second Watcher, who tracked me down when I moved to Sunnydale, posed as my school librarian so he could be close by. It's a hell of a lot more difficult to make a fifteen year old disappear than it is to make a baby disappear."

"You weren't discovered until you were called?" Professor Giles asked, surprised.

"Nope," Buffy replied, popping the 'p'. "Explains things a bit, doesn't it?"

"Just a bit," Professor Giles said, floored a little. "You know, I think you might be ready to go out in the field again."

"I was wondering when you'd say that," Buffy said with a relieved sigh. The stress of the last couple of weeks had made her a little antsy and she really needed to go and slay some undead butt.

"I think we should leave it here for tonight," Professor Giles said as she levitated the dummy back to its place in the spelled cabinet at the back of the classroom. "We should meet in the Entrance Hall at nine o'clock on Friday night for our little field trip. I'll make sure the house elves send up something appropriate for Slaying in."

"I could probably transfigure something on my own," Buffy replied with a slight smile. Only a Watcher would call a foray into a rather dangerous forest as a "little field trip". "I've gotten pretty handy with my wand."

"Well, whatever. Do you need someone to take you back to Gryffindor Tower?" Professor Giles asked. Buffy hesitated for a moment, reaching her senses out. She felt a familiar presence just on the other side of the door.

"Nope, I think my ride's just arrived," Buffy replied with a grin. "See you later, Professor Giles."

"You'd better not be putting any more students in danger. Professor Dippet will have my head if you are," Professor Giles called after her as Buffy left, waving a hand over her shoulder to indicate that she had heard the Professor.

"How was detention?" Tom asked with an arched eyebrow as Buffy exited the classroom, closing the door behind her.

"It was detention," Buffy replied with a shrug as she reached up on her tiptoes to peck him on the lips. She knew Tom didn't believe her detention excuse and that he knew something else was going on, but Buffy wasn't going to clue him in. Even though she was certain Tom would be able to handle himself in any kind of situation, but she didn't want him there if she could help it. She'd had enough of putting Xander, Willow and Oz in danger back in Sunnydale, and she'd go it alone this time around if she could help it.

"How are you holding up?" Tom asked as he reached down and grabbed Buffy's hand, intertwining her fingers with his before they headed to the Gryffindor common room. "Are your friends still giving you trouble?"

"Well, they've stopped calling me crazy and suggesting I go to St. Mungo's," Buffy replied with a shrug. "Now they're just suggesting the hospital wing."

"Well, that's good I suppose," Tom said with a sigh. "And Quentin?"

"Stopped talking to me completely," Buffy replied, echoing Tom's sigh. "But I'm fine, really. I'll survive. I've been through worse."

"I doubt that, but I believe you'll survive," Tom said as they reached the Fat Lady. He dipped down and kissed Buffy good-bye for the night. "In fact, I think you'll thrive. I'll see you tomorrow night?"

"Rabid Fyarls couldn't keep me away," Buffy replied, stretching onto her tiptoes for one last kiss. "Good night, Tommy-boy."

"Good night, Buffy," Tom said with a small smile, turning and leaving Buffy to give the password to the Fat Lady.

XOXOXO

**Chapter 24 done. Next one should be interesting. Obviously, Buffy's going to be followed into the Forest. The question is, who is it going to be? Tune in next week!**

**As always, feedback in all forms is appreciated.**

**And hey, according to the word counter, this story has hit over 100k! Woohoo!**


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Friday came and all through the day Buffy was antsy and she couldn't tell anyone why. Terrence, Augusta and Minerva couldn't know because they didn't know everything about her. Tom wasn't allowed to know because Buffy knew he would follow her out into the Forest, and that was one of the things she wanted to avoid. And of course there was Quentin, who was still avoiding her like the plague. At least he'd stopped trying to glare her to death.

It was dead easy to sneak out of the common room on that Friday night, dressed in a pair of transfigured jeans, one of her school sweaters and her cloak, which she had transfigured to be more form fitting, to resemble Spike's trench coat. Which, in reality, was something she didn't want to think about, but it afforded an ease of movement that her cloak just didn't have.

Buffy was certain that no one had followed her down to the Entrance Hall; she hadn't heard anyone following her, and when the hallways were deserted footsteps echoed. She assumed she was safe. This time, at least.

"You were able to leave the common room like that without any questions?" Professor Giles asked, arching an eyebrow at Buffy's attire. The younger girl shrugged.

"Wasn't that hard. They all think I'm a little strange an unusual anyway," Buffy replied. "Besides, the common room was empty. I'm guessing they were all off, doing other things. So, can we go and make with the slayage already?"

"Eager to get out there, I see," Professor Giles said with a nod of approval. "Excellent."

"Sure, we'll go with that," Buffy said, even though it was only partially true. Professor Giles just arched an eyebrow at her, but said nothing, before leading her out of the castle and into the forest.

It was the middle of March now; the snow was beginning to melt, although it was still far too cold for Buffy's liking. A chilly wind blew through the grounds, cutting through Buffy's relatively thick coat and chilling her skin. She couldn't wait until spring and summer arrived, when she could feel the sunshine again, even though it wouldn't be the California heat.

At the edge of the forest, Professor Giles stopped and reached into her pocket. She extracted a small box from the depths of her cloak and set it on the ground before pointing her wand at it. The box enlarged, surprising Buffy a bit.

"Woah," she said, looking at the box. "What's in it?"

"A small arsenal of melee and long distance weaponry for you to pick through," Professor Giles replied with an amused sparkle in her eye.

"Oooh, shiny!" Buffy exclaimed, extracting a sword, a crossbow and a couple of stakes while taking inventory of what else was in the box. "Is it sad that weapons make me more excited than jewellery?"

"If you weren't a Slayer, maybe," Professor Giles said with a wry smile before leading Buffy into the forest. "Now, this is both a Slaying mission and a training exercise. I want you to close your eyes and reach out with your senses, try to find something that is out of the ordinary."

"This whole place is out of the ordinary," Buffy grumbled, but obliged, closing her eyes and reaching out in an attempt to find anything worth slaying. She could sense a lot of different presences, non-human but not demonic in nature. She was about to give up when something pinged on her radar.

Vampire.

"Did you find something?" Professor Giles asked as Buffy opened her eyes and started walking into the forest, not even trying to keep quiet.

"Yep," Buffy replied, not looking back at her professor turned Watcher.

"What is it?" Professor Giles asked, rushing to catch up to Buffy. "And could you at least try to be quiet? You don't want to go scaring off the demons!"

"Vampires and demons can sense the slayer, just like I can sense them," Buffy replied. "Once they figure out a slayer is in this forest, they're going to try and stand their ground and make a name for themselves, the guy who killed the slayer."

"Well pardon me," Professor Giles said with a roll of her eyes. "Heaven forbid the knowledge of the experienced Watcher supersedes the knowledge of the teenaged Slayer."

"Knew you'd understand," Buffy replied perkily. She knew that her professor was being particularly snarky, just like her Giles had been when she acted like a teenager more than usual. It made her smile; it vaguely reminded her of home, and it wasn't in the form of a vampire or a creature that could take the shape of a vampire.

Stopping periodically to make sure she was on the right path, Buffy was close enough to see the vampire, and what it was doing. It was grappling with someone, but Buffy couldn't tell who it was. It didn't matter – all that was important was that the vampire was snacking near Hogwarts and Buffy had to stop it before the victim died.

Running through the brush, ignoring the branches snagging on her clothes and raking across her face, she got to the vampire in record time, throwing it off of its late-night snack. A fight ensued, fists and feet flying until Buffy got the vampire onto the ground. As it was stunned, she took the stake she had shoved into the back of her pants and plunged it into the vampire's chest, dusting it.

Getting up and dusting off her hands, Buffy turned to the prone figure on the ground. He was lying there motionless, and Buffy recognized the crest on the robes. Gryffindor. Chewing on her lip, really not wanting to know who was laying on the ground, most likely dead, Buffy made her way to the boy on the ground.

It was Quentin.

"No," Buffy gasped, rushing to his side, checking for a pulse or any other signs of life. "Don't be dead, don't be dead, don't be dead."

He groaned and his eyes cracked open, and Buffy sighed in relief, although she knew they had to get him to the hospital wing as soon as possible.

"Buffy?" he whispered, but Buffy placed a finger over his lips.

"Shhh. You can tell me how stupid you were when we get you to the hospital," she replied. He gasped out something that could have been interpreted as a laugh as Buffy turned to the direction of where she was sure the professor was. "Professor Giles!"

"Is he still alive?" she asked, rushing over, her wand pointed at Quentin.

"Now, yeah, but he got bitten," Buffy replied, pointing to the bite mark on his neck. Professor Giles gasped. "I don't see any blood on his mouth though so I don't think he's going to turn into one."

"Let's get him to the hospital wing, see what Matron Pomfrey can do," Professor Giles said, waving her wand to conjure a stretcher. Flicking her wand again, the stretcher levitated, and they headed out of the forest as quickly as they could, hoping that they got him to the hospital wing in time. Thankfully, Quentin wasn't far from the path, and it was a relatively easy journey to the school grounds.

Up to the hospital wing they went, meeting no one on the way despite it being Friday night and before curfew. She supposed everyone was off in some nook or cranny in the castle, and it wasn't really something Buffy liked to think about. Right now, though, she and Professor Giles had to concentrate on getting Quentin to the hospital wing where they could take care of him.

"What is the meaning of this?" Matron Pomfrey said as Buffy and Professor Giles burst into the hospital wing, the stretcher with Quentin between them.

"This boy requires medical attention," Professor Giles replied briskly. "He was in the forest and was bitten by a creature. Hurry, before it's too late!"

Matron Pomfrey gestured to one of the beds at the end before bustling off to gather supplies. Professor Giles levitated the stretcher over to the indicated bed and gently lay Quentin down on top of the sheets. Buffy pulled up a chair next to the bed and grabbed one of Quentin's hands in her own. It was so cold, and he was so pale, but he was breathing so Buffy wasn't worried too much at the moment. She knew that it took more than a couple of minutes for someone to become a vampire, and the potential vampire had to die first.

"Out of the way, Edna, out of the way!" Matron Pomfrey said, Poppy on tow. "You too, Miss Summers."

"Snowball's chance in hell," Buffy retorted. "He's my best friend and if he's going to die he's not going to do it alone."

"He's not going to die, Miss Summers," Matron Pomfrey said, exasperated. "Now move!"

"You'll need wild hellhounds to get me away from this bed," Buffy replied stubbornly. Throwing up her hands in defeat, Matron Pomfrey began waving her wand over Quentin as Buffy squeezed his hand, for both his comfort and hers.

"What was he bitten by?" Poppy asked as she began gathering bottles of different coloured potions. Buffy glanced at Professor Giles, question in her eyes, wondering if she should tell the truth or not. Professor Giles nodded slightly, giving her consent. Buffy sighed, hoping that neither woman would faint dead away.

"It was a vampire," Buffy replied. Both women stared at her, surprised, but neither of them had fainted. Or screamed. Or called her crazy. Good.

"You're certain about this?" Matron Pomfrey said.

"Saw it with my own two eyes," Buffy replied. "There's a pile of dust out in the forest somewhere. I don't think Quentin drank any of the blood, so we're not in any risk of him turning into one."

"How do you know all of this?" Poppy asked as she watched her mother bustle around the bed, poking Quentin with her wand and smearing a salve of some kind on his neck.

"Let's just say I have some practical experience," Buffy replied with a shrug as Professor Giles left the infirmary.

It seemed like ages before Professor Giles came back. Buffy hadn't moved from Quentin's bedside, holding onto his hand for dear life. His skin was beginning to warm again as he slept, his breathing was easier and he was looking better.

"There's not much you can do for him until he wakes up," Matron Pomfrey said, placing a hand on Buffy's shoulder. "Maybe you should head back up to Gryffindor tower and get some sleep? You can come back here first thing."

"I'd rather stay here, if you don't mind," Buffy replied, looking up at the stern faced matron hopefully.

"Well, all right," Matron Pomfrey said. She pointed to the bottle on Quentin's bedside table. "Make sure he takes that when he wakes up. It's a blood-replenishing potion."

"I will," Buffy replied, resting her head on the top of Quentin's blanket. She was asleep within moments.

XOXOXO

A short while later – Buffy wasn't entirely sure how long – she was awoken by someone shaking her shoulder gently. Shaking the cobwebs from her brain, Buffy looked up to see Professor Giles looking at her sadly. "Professors Dumbledore and Dippet wish to speak to you out in the hallway," she said, helping Buffy to her feet.

"Miss Summers," Dumbledore greeted with a nod when both Professor Giles and Buffy entered the corridor. Neither he nor Dippet looked particularly happy. "I trust Mr. Trimble is well?"

"He'll live, without the whole fangy and allergy to sun problem," Buffy replied. "Which I'm grateful."

"You may leave, Professor Giles," Dippet said, gesturing in a direction that vaguely said "away".

"I wish to stay, Professor Dippet," Professor Giles replied. "You are speaking to my Slayer and, seeing as she has no other advocate, I wish to be present."

Professor Dippet did not look particularly happy at this development, but only huffed and didn't say another word. Buffy caught Professor Dumbledore's eye, which had a distinct amused twinkle in them.

"Now then, you're probably wondering why I asked to see you," Dippet said.

"Well yeah," Buffy replied. "This isn't about the whole life-save-age thing, is it?"

"Well, in part, yes," Dippet said after a moment, after he had deciphered what Buffy was trying to tell him. "I've noticed that since your arrival there have been certain… things occurring."

"I'm guessing it's the whole vampires and demons invading your forest type of thing?" Buffy asked.

"Well, yes," Dippet said, taken aback a little. Buffy smirked to herself; the dumb blonde thing was mostly an act – she was far more perceptive about this kind of thing than she usually let on.

"All the nasty beasties are drawn to me. Demon magnet," Buffy replied. "They want to kill me, I want to kill them. I usually end up winning."

"Be that as it may, we are becoming a little… concerned… about the safety of the students here," Dippet said delicately.

"Why do you think I've been patrolling the forest?" Buffy shot back, before shooting a pointed look at Professor Giles. "At least, I've been trying."

"If you weren't here, we wouldn't need someone to patrol the forest," Dippet replied mildly.

"You think I want to be stuck in this time, where everything is backwards and strange?" Buffy hissed, glancing around to make sure no one had heard her. Wouldn't be a good idea for the entire castle to know she hadn't been born yet. "You obviously don't want me here, and I want to go home, to where my friends, my mom, my old school, my old Watcher are. Since neither of us can get what we want, were just going to have to make do with what we've got. You let me stay here, I keep the kiddies safe."

"You haven't been doing a very good job," Dippet said, nodding his head toward the hospital wing.

"He'll live. Isn't that enough?" Buffy asked, becoming upset.

"He still got attacked," Dippet reminded her.

"And that's my fault?" Buffy asked. "It's not like I led him into the forest on a leash or anything and oh God, that sounded way less wrong in my head."

"This time," Dippet said with a scoff.

"Have I done something to offend you?" Buffy asked. "Besides the whole Slayer thing and dropping into your school unannounced thing."

"You are not unwelcome here, Miss Summers, you should know that by now," Dumbledore said calmly. "Now, we can't send you home. We'll probably never be able to. You are building a life here. There are people who love you here. One of them is laying in that hospital bed."

"And if someone hadn't been accusing me of luring hapless students into demon fights, I'd be at his beside, waiting for him to wake up," Buffy retorted.

"Why don't you go and sit with Quentin," Professor Giles said, wrapping an arm around Buffy's shoulders and shooting a pointed glare at Professor Dippet. Buffy looked up, mouthed her thanks to her stand-in Watcher and headed back into the hospital wing. She made a beeline to Quentin's bed, sitting down in her previously vacated chair and taking Quentin's hand in her own again.

He hadn't woken up yet.

She sat there for what seemed like ages and must have fallen asleep again, because the next thing she remembered was pale, early spring sunlight streaming through the window and feeling the mattress move underneath her cheek; she must have laid her head on top of Quentin's blanket for a moment and ended up falling asleep.

"What am I doing here?" Quentin asked sleepily, looking around. He winced when he turned his head, pulling at the wound on his neck. His hand flew to the bandage there, his eyes widening. "What happened to me?"

"You snuck out into the forest and became a vampire snack," Buffy replied, blinking the sleep from her eyes. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired, kind of sluggish," Quentin replied while trying to stifle a jaw-cracking yawn.

"Oh yeah, here, you have to drink this," Buffy replied, grabbing the bottle from the bedside table and handing it to him. He popped the cork off of the bottle and downed it in one go, gagging afterwards. "That bad, huh?"

"Tastes like old coffee grounds," Quentin said with a shiver as he replaced the bottle on the table. "Okay, I know why I'm here. What are _you _doing here?"

"I saved your ass," Buffy replied. "I was out patrolling with Professor Giles when I heard something in the Forest. Found a vampire snacking on a student and dusted it. I didn't know it was you until afterwards."

"So if you'd known it was me, you would have let me die?" Quentin accused, narrowing his eyes at her.

"I didn't mean it that way," Buffy replied with a sigh, feeling the sting of tears in her eyes. "And for the record, you stopped talking to me. You're the one mad at me, not the other way around."

"Funny way of showing it," Quentin muttered.

"What was I supposed to do, follow you around like a hopeless puppy?" Buffy asked. "You made it very clear you wanted nothing to do with me."

"You started seeing Riddle again," Quentin retorted. "You know how I feel about him."

"You can't control who you fall in love with," Buffy replied quietly. "Believe me, if you could my love life would have been so much easier."

"What made your love life so difficult?" Quentin asked.

"Remember that psycho ex I told you about?" Buffy asked. Quentin nodded. "Vampire."

"Seriously?" Quentin asked, eyes wide. "How is that possible? Aren't you supposed to be all, you know, slay-y around vampires?"

"He was different," Buffy replied. "He had a soul. Too bad it wasn't permanent."

"What happened?" Quentin asked, although he was trying to sound disinterested.

"We got all groiny, he lost his soul, went on a rampage and ended up killing my Watcher's girlfriend," Buffy replied, halting her speech a little. She had almost called Ms. Calendar her computer teacher, which would mean having to explain computers, which would probably mean having to explain that she wasn't really from the 1940's.

"Groiny?" Quentin asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"Moment of pure happiness and he loses his soul. It's a gypsy curse thingy," Buffy replied with a shrug. "But yeah, he tried to bring forward this majorly bad demon that opened a portal that would have sucked Earth into Hell unless I shoved Angelus back in. It was hard enough to do it to the demon wearing my lover's face, but just before I shoved the sword in his gut, he got his soul back."

"How?" Quentin asked.

"My friend Willow," Buffy replied. "She was trying to do the soul restoration spell. The first time had failed due to vampire attack and she ended up in the hospital. We didn't think she'd want to try it again, and by the time his soul came back it was too late. I had to kill him. So believe me when I know evil bastards. Tom might be manipulative and a smug bastard, but he's not evil. He still has his soul."

"And here I thought your life couldn't get any weirder," Quentin said. He was sitting up now, wide awake, gobbling Buffy's words as if he were a starving man.

"Don't remind me," Buffy replied with a shake of her head. "Hey, there's a kind of good, weird thing that will come out of this night."

"What's that?" Quentin asked, curious.

"We'll match!" Buffy replied, pulling the collar of her shirt away from her neck, revealing the ugly scar on her neck.

"Your boyfriend didn't give that to you, did he?" Quentin asked warily, although there was a flash of protectiveness in his eyes.

"No, no," Buffy replied. "Besides the smack-down before I had to shove him into that portal, Angel never laid a violent hand on me. This is from The Master. The night I died."

"I thought you said you drowned?" Quentin asked.

"I did. He drained me to the point where I was still alive, but passed out and then tossed me into a pool of water," Buffy replied. "I died, but got revived."

Quentin went silent, and for a few moments they just sat there in the quiet. It was then that Buffy realized that she was still holding Quentin's hand, but when she tried to take it away, Quentin squeezed it, indicating that he didn't want to let her go.

"I've missed you," he said quietly. "I would have talked to you sooner, but I didn't know what to say. I said some pretty awful things and I didn't think 'I'm sorry' would have sufficed."

"Well, it's a start," Buffy replied. "And I've missed my best friend, even though he somehow got possessed by a pod person."

"I'm your best friend?" Quentin asked. "I thought Riddle…"

"Riddle – Tom – is my boyfriend. He's nice and everything, but he's not the one I go to when I'm having a bad day and all I need is a shoulder to cry on," Buffy replied. "Sadly, that's your job."

"I'll take what I can get," Quentin said, squeezing her hand again with a hopeful smile. "So, are we okay?"

"No," Buffy replied, and Quentin's face fell until he heard the next part. "We're great."

XOXOXO

Quentin wasn't allowed to leave the hospital wing until Sunday evening just before dinner. Both Matron Pomfrey and Poppy wanted to make sure that Quentin did what he was supposed to do, so with a promise to take a dose of blood replenishing potion before bed and to come back to the hospital wing if he felt light-headed, dizzy or weak, he was discharged to Buffy's care with a promise from her to drag him back to the hospital wing if she noticed he was feeling off.

Linking their arms together, Buffy and Quentin made their way down to the Great Hall for dinner. After the multitude of instructions and promises to follow them, they were running slightly late, and almost the entire school was seating and dishing out their dinners when they pair arrived at the Gryffindor table.

"Where have you two been?" Terrence asked, looking at the sixth years in front of him. His eyes travelled to their linked arms. "Did you come to your senses and ditch Riddle, Buffy? Is that where you two have been? Don't toy with me, Buffy."

"No, Tom and I haven't broken up. Sorry to disappoint you," Buffy replied with a roll of her eyes as she disengaged her arm from Quentin's and sat down across from Terrence.

"Well, then where have you been?" Terrence asked, cocking an eyebrow at them.

"Quentin landed himself in the hospital wing with a nasty stomach bug," Buffy lied quickly. She glanced over at him and was glad to see relief in his eyes. If they could get Terrence to believe the lie it would be beneficial, as explaining he was laid up in the hospital wing due to a vampire bite would probably lead to more questions than answers.

"You're not still sick, are you?" Terrence asked, drawing his robe over his nose as if it could ward off germs. "I can't afford to get sick, what with NEWTs coming up and all."

"It was just a twenty-four hour bug," Quentin replied. "I'm right as rain."

"Good," Terrence replied. He turned to Buffy. "We know why he was gone. What's your excuse?"

"I was in the hospital. You know, visiting and making sure he was okay," Buffy replied.

"Holding the bucket when I puked," Quentin mumbled.

"That was more information than I needed," Terrence said with a grimace. He began eating his dinner.

"Obviously not enough to put you off your dinner," Quentin said as he and Buffy began dishing out their own dinners.

Not long into their meal, Buffy felt like she was being watched. She looked up and she wasn't surprised to see Tom staring at her. He jerked his head toward the door, the universal cross-room signal to go meet outside. With a sigh, Buffy got up from her seat.

"Bye, bye the first yummy food I've had all weekend. I hardly knew ye," she said before turning to Quentin and Terrence. "Sorry guys, but it looks like I'm being summoned."

"Ignore it," Quentin said, narrowing his eyes at Tom as he got up from the Slytherin table and headed to the doors.

"And then he'll grab me on my way out and pull me into a dark, dank alcove," Buffy replied with a roll of her eyes before turning and following Tom out. He was standing just outside the doors, leaning up against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. "What's up?"

"Where have you been all weekend?" Tom asked, his voice neutral.

"This couldn't have waited until after dinner?" Buffy asked. "I've been eating hospital wing food all weekend and I was really looking forward to that shepherd's pie in there. Did you see the shepherd's pie?"

"Are you all right?" Tom asked, concerned. He uncrossed his arms and stepped forward, resting his hands on her shoulders. "Are you injured? Have you been ill?"

"Nothing like that," Buffy replied. "Quentin was in the hospital wing and I was staying with him. You know, because he's my best friend and all."

"You two were fighting," Tom said, dropping his hands from her shoulders and dropping them to his sides. "What changed?"

"Just because we were fighting, it doesn't mean I stopped caring about him," Buffy replied. "As a friend."

"Are you sure?" Tom asked, sounding, for once, uncertain.

"Scared of a little competition?" Buffy teased with a smile, although the look on his face made the smile drop off of hers instantly. She grabbed his hands and held them in her own, rubbing the backs of them with her thumbs. "You have nothing to worry about. _Nothing_. I love Quentin, but like a brother. _You _are the one I'm with, not him."

Tom met her eyes for a moment, dark blue locked on hazel for a few very long moments before Tom wrapped his arms around Buffy's waist and crashed his lips into hers, kissing her fiercely. He drew back before Buffy melted in his arms, but he kept his lips hovering over hers.

"You're mine," he whispered, breathless.

"And you're mine," Buffy agreed.

XOXOXO

The next few weeks flew by. The cold, windy March weather gave way to rainy April afternoons, although if Buffy hadn't had classes outside, she wouldn't have known what the weather was doing. While she was doing reasonably well in her current classes, her tutors and teachers were trying to cram five additional years of magical learning into her brain during the evenings and weekends, sacrificing their time and energy to help her learn everything she needed to know.

OWLs were coming up, and Buffy was already beginning to panic.

The first dry day they had around mid-April was a Saturday, and Buffy was frantically studying Charms while Augusta drilled her. After five wrong answers, Buffy pressed a pillow from the couch she was sitting on and pressed it to her face, muffling the scream of frustration she let out.

"I think it's time we take a break," Augusta said, putting the flashcards she had made to one side before she plucked the pillow from Buffy's hands.

"There is no way in hell I'm going to be able to pass this exam," Buffy moaned, placing her face into her hands.

"Well, it's only April," Augusta said brightly, although the smile on her face was a little strained.

"What you need is a distraction," Terrence said, having just entered.

"Oh yeah? And what do you suggest?" Buffy asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Well, it's the first nice day we've had in a while. I vote that we head out to the Quidditch pitch and give you that flying lesson I promised you," Terrence replied.

"Do I get a say in this?" Buffy asked. "Can't I just, I don't know, take a nap? A nap would be nice."

"You need to go outside, get some fresh air," Augusta agreed. "Besides, flying is fun. You'll like it."

"And if I don't?" Buffy asked.

"Then I don't know what to say to you," Augusta said with a shrug.

"Come on, let's go," Terrence said, sounding a bit like an impatient five year old. "Go on and get your cloak. It's still a little chilly and if you get up in the air you might get cold."

"I'm going, I'm going," Buffy grumbled, although she was quite thankful for the break. Trying to cram her brain full of Charms theory was beginning to drive her crazy.

Running up the stairs, Buffy grabbed her cloak from her bed and ran back down the stairs, swinging the cloak around her shoulders as she did so. "Let's get this over with already."

"You won't regret it," Terrence said with a grin as the three of them trooped out of the common room, gaining two more tagalongs in the forms of Quentin and Minerva as they exited through the portrait hole. When they reached the Quidditch pitch, Terrence led them to the broom shed. He entered, and after several moments of crashing sounds and, presumably, the sounds of brooms falling from their upright positions, Terrence emerged triumphantly, a broom in hand. "This one is the best of the lot."

"Not very impressive looking," Buffy muttered as they trooped to the Quidditch pitch. Surprisingly, it was deserted that afternoon. Buffy had expected, with Quidditch finals upon them, that one of the other house teams would have booked it to run drills and practice scrimmages. Gryffindor and Slytherin were in the running for first place, which Buffy had been told wasn't unusual at all. The animosity between the two houses drove their need to win.

"It's an old school nag," Terrence replied with a shrug. "This one lists a little to the left, but that's easy enough to correct. Some of the other stall if you don't hold it right, and some of the others vibrate if you fly them too high. But this one, she's sturdy and usually does what you ask her. Come on, let's get started."

"Okay," Buffy said, growing nervous. This would be the time where she would totally make an ass of herself in front of everyone, even if 'everyone' just so happened to be her little group of friends.

"Quentin, are you all right with me taking her up?" he asked the other boy, who nodded. He turned his attention to Minerva, the same question in his eyes, who also nodded. Grinning like a maniac, he hopped onto the broom, sliding forward so that there was enough room for Buffy to sit behind him. "Hop on!"

"Are you sure that's safe?" Buffy asked, looking at the broom uncertainly. It looked like it might hold her and Terrence's weight separately, but together? Not so much.

"Of course, it's spelled," Terrence replied. "Look, if you fall off and break your neck you can come back and haunt me for the rest of my days."

"Oddly enough, that's not comforting," Buffy said, but she swung a leg over the side of the broom and wrapped her arms around his waist in a death grip, burying her face into the space between his shoulder blades.

"If I'm going to be taking you up, you need to loosen your grip," Terrence said, gasping a little for effect. "Can't have me passing out while we're up in the air."

"Fine," Buffy mumbled into his back, loosening her arms a little so that she wasn't crushing his ribcage.

"And you might want to turn your head so that you can actually see," Terrence said as he kicked off. "The view is spectacular."

Buffy sighed and turned her head so that one eye was exposed, but that didn't last very long. Sure, they weren't flying very high, relatively speaking, but everything looked so _different _from that distance above the ground. She could see _everything _on the grounds from this distance, even though they were only hovering around the height of the highest stands of the Quidditch pitch.

"Ready to move?" Terrence asked, glancing at Buffy over his shoulder.

"Umm, maybe?" Buffy said uncertainly.

Terrence just grinned at her and began urging the broom forward, slowly at first, but gradually gaining speed as he flew laps around the pitch. Soon, he was doing dips, dives and barrel rolls, Buffy laughing joyously as she clung to him. After a few loop-the-loops, Terrence made a gradual descent, touching down lightly before getting off of the broom.

"So, do you want to go up on your own?" he asked with an impish smile.

"No way," Buffy replied with a vehement shake of her head as she followed suit. "I don't want to ruin that."

"As well, we still have studying to do," Augusta piped up. "You still haven't mastered the summoning or the banishing charms, and those will certainly be on the exam."

Buffy whined but didn't say anything, leaning on Quentin's shoulder as she handed the broom back to Terrence. Quentin, in turn, wrapped an arm around her shoulders and began leading her back up to the castle, Minerva and Augusta on tow as Terrence jogged back to the broom shed to put the broomstick away.

She wanted to enjoy her walk, her last little bit of freedom before she had to go back to her book-lined prison. And she did enjoy her walk, but it was cut shorter than she had expected when she saw who was waiting for her at the Entrance Hall doors.

"I'll catch up with you," Buffy said, slipping from underneath Quentin's arm and went to go see Tom, who was standing off to the side with a rather unpleasant expression on his face. "What's wrong?"

"Where were you?" he asked. His voice was calm, but it was forced, as if he was trying to keep his emotions out of it.

"Taking a break from studying," Buffy replied. She began to wrack her brain, trying to figure out if they had had plans that afternoon. She came up empty. "We didn't have plans this afternoon, did we? Because if we did, I'm sorry. It's been really crazy these last couple of weeks."

"No, we didn't have plans," Tom replied. "I just thought it was strange to see you on the back of a broom, clinging to Longbottom, and then hanging off of Trimble on the way back to the castle."

"I was clinging to Terrence because if I didn't I would have fallen to my death, and we both know that isn't a good thing, and I wasn't hanging off of Quentin," Buffy replied. "He was offering support because I was going back to studying charms. You know how much I hate charms."

"But he was pawing at you!" Tom exclaimed.

"The only person pawing at me is _you_," Buffy retorted. "Quentin and I hug. We link arms. We're touchy people, it's what we do. It's completely innocent – if I was going to dump you, I'd do it before starting anything with anyone else."

"That's so comforting," Tom said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. Buffy rose onto her tiptoes and pressed her lips against his softly, lowering herself back down before he could get too caught up in the kiss. "What was that for?"

"Because you're my boyfriend and I felt like it," Buffy replied with a shrug, wrapping her arms around his waist. "When will you understand that I'm with _you_, not Quentin, or Terrence, or anyone else? Are you really listening to Malfoy and what he's got to say about me?"

"No," Tom said with a sigh. "I've just had everything I love taken away from me. I don't want to lose you, either."

"Don't worry," Buffy replied, kissing him again. "I'm not going anywhere anytime soon, I promise."

XOXOXO

**Okay, so I know it's late. But you get an extra-long chapter, so that's good. Right?**

**Still don't know precisely how many chapters this is going to be, but I can see the end in sight. Under thirty chapters, I think. Should be fun.**

**As always, feedback is awesome.**


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

OWLs and NEWTs were bearing down on the students of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. There were panic attacks galore; more than once Buffy had seen either a fifth year or seventh year rush out of the common room in hysterics, heading for the hospital wing for a Calming Draught. While Buffy was nervous as well – she had every right to be, considering her circumstances – there was another thing prying at her mind that made her more anxious that OWLs.

Where would she be going once the school year was over?

It hadn't been mentioned since just after the holidays, and Buffy was beginning to get quite worried. What if the school year ended and Dumbledore hadn't told her where she was going to be going? What then? Would she have to live in a hut on the school grounds, like Hagrid? Or would they toss her out in the street and make her fend for herself for two and a half months, until September started up again? It was the pressing desire to know the answers to these questions that distracted Buffy from her studying, and if she didn't know soon it might be detrimental to her grades.

If only her friends from Sunnydale could see her now. Buffy Summers, worried about her grades.

One Saturday morning, as if he had been reading her mind over the last few days, an owl fluttered down from the rafters with a letter tied to its leg. Grabbing the letter, Buffy broke the wax seal and extracted the piece of creamy parchment from the envelope.

_Dear Miss Summers,_

_Please meet me in my office after breakfast. I have much to discuss with you about your current situation._

_Yours truly,_

_Professor A. Dumbledore_

"But we were going to go over cross-species switching this morning," Minerva said, after she had glanced at the note. "I still don't think you can do it at Exceeds Expectations level."

"We'll have lots of time to do it," Buffy said as she folded up the letter and stuffed it into her pocket. "This meeting with Professor Dumbledore shouldn't take long at all."

Buffy glanced up at the Head Table; Professor Dumbledore was still seated there, speaking with Professor Giles as he munched on his toast. _Good, _Buffy thought. _That'll give me time to enjoy my Saturday breakfast._

"What do you need to see Dumbledore for?" Quentin asked. He had also seen the note and he was looking at Buffy with concern in his eyes.

"Probably something to do with this summer," Buffy replied with a sigh, feeling sad. With how busy she'd been in recent weeks, between her classes, her friends and Tom, she didn't have a whole lot of time to dwell on the fact that she didn't have a place to go once school let out. At least, not until recently.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Quentin asked. "You know, for moral support."

"I think I'll be okay, but thank you for offering," Buffy replied with a smile. "You're a good friend."

Quentin smiled back as Buffy glanced up at the Head Table again. This time, Dumbledore was rising from his chair, having finished his breakfast. "Looks like that's my cue to go," Buffy said, grabbing an apple from the bowl before getting up from her own seat. "I'll see you guys in the common room later."

She left to her friends calling out good luck wishes, making her smile as she bit into her apple and headed up to the seventh floor. She met no one, not even Peeves or Mr. Pringle, on her way.

"You wanted to see me, Professor?" Buffy asked, poking her head into Professor Dumbledore's office. The door was ajar, otherwise she would have knocked.

"Yes, of course Miss Summers. Please, close the door and take a seat," Dumbledore said, gesturing to the chair in front of his desk. Closing the door softly behind her, Buffy flopped down onto the squishy, comfortable chair. "How are your studies going?"

"I feel like my brain is leaking from my ears," Buffy replied with a groan.

"Well, I have some news that might make your studying worthwhile," Dumbledore replied, patting the stack of paper on his desk.

"I'm guessing that's not my one-way ticket back to 1998," Buffy said, glancing at the parchment.

"I'm afraid not," Dumbledore said with a sad smile. "However, I have guaranteed you a place in the Wizarding World, should you wish to take it. I had owled a few couples who had I thought would be excellent caregivers, and the response was astounding. I even received some unsolicited offers once it got around that I was looking for an adoptive family for you. It has taken me this long to weed through the applications and these four are the ones I thought would be the most suitable."

"Do I get any say in who gets to take me?" Buffy asked, curious.

"What I am proposing is a trial run with each of the families," Dumbledore said. "Two weeks at each house, and then at the end of it we'll all sit down and decide who will officially adopt you, although I daresay all of the parents in these families will want to be a part of your life, if you wish to let them."

"What families have you picked out for me?" Buffy asked, although she was pretty sure she knew who they were. With a mischievous twinkle in his eye, Dumbledore handed over four letters, each addressed to her, in varying styles of handwriting.

Although the information was varied, all of the letters conveyed the same type – how they had heard about her through their children so much that they felt like they knew her, and when Dumbledore contacted them they couldn't turn him down. They told her about where they lived, how many other children were in the house and if there were any pets. The signatures at the bottom of the letters made her smile – Camille and Thomas Trimble, Roland and Bernice Longbottom, Elizabeth and Phoebus Smith and Hestia and Macall McGonagall.

"I didn't know Minnie had a younger sister," Buffy remarked, looking over the letters.

"Well, you'll have a chance to meet little Madeline when you stay with her family," Dumbledore said with a sad smile. "I am truly sorry we can't send you back to your own time, my dear. The best thing I can do is help you build a home here where, I hope, you can be happy."

"You tried," Buffy said with a sad sigh. "Was there anything else you wanted to talk to me about?"

"Nothing urgent," Dumbledore replied. "Good luck on your exams."

"Thanks," Buffy said with a watery smile as she got up from her seat. "For everything."

"I am merely doing what any other head of house would do for a student in need," Dumbledore replied, although Buffy was quite certain he was going above and beyond what any head of house would do for their students.

If what Dumbledore was doing was typical, how did that explain Tom? Slughorn must have known that Tom was an orphan. They didn't speak about his past all that often – he preferred to listen about her life, because it was so much happier than his – but Buffy got the gist of it. Mother died in childbirth, father wanted nothing to do with him so he had to grow up in a destitute Muggle orphanage. He figured out early on that he was different from the rest of the children there, and didn't really know what was happening until Dumbledore visited him on his eleventh birthday, to explain everything.

With a lot on her mind, Buffy left Dumbledore's office, clutching the letters to her chest. About three feet outside of the door, Buffy crashed into something solid, warm and a fair amount taller than her.

She had crashed right into Abraxas Malfoy, and because she wasn't on her guard Buffy ended up on the floor.

"Miss Summers, what a _pleasant_ surprise," he said as he reached to help Buffy to her feet. She waved his hand off; he made her uneasy, and there was no way she was going to let him touch her. She gathered up the pieces of parchment that had flown from her grasp when she had taken her tumble before getting up under her own power.

"What's going on here?"

Both Buffy and Malfoy turned, only to find, surprise, surprise, Tom Riddle standing a short distance away, not looking to happy as he glared at Malfoy.

"I was only out for a stroll and your friend here crashed into me," Malfoy replied, brushing an imperceptible piece of lint from his jacket.

"Well, be on your way," Tom said, moving closer so that he could wrap an arm around Buffy's waist, drawing her to his side.

"I'm going, I'm going," Malfoy said. "You might want to keep your little friend on a tighter leash or you might find that she's running out of time."

The blond boy turned and headed down the hallway towards the stairs. Buffy and Tom watched him go until they couldn't see him.

"Okay, because that was vague and didn't make sense," Buffy said, wrinkling her nose in the direction that Malfoy had gone before turning her attention back to Tom. "So, were you following me, or were you following Malfoy?"

"What makes you think I was doing any following?" Tom asked innocently.

"I _know _you, that's why," Buffy replied. "You're like, master of the stalkers. Remember, you followed me around for ages?"

"It was hardly ages," Tom replied with a scoff.

"It is to me," Buffy replied. "Remember, short life span?"

"Oh. Right," Tom said, lowering his gaze. His attention was drawn to the sheaf of papers in her hand. "What's that?"

"Just some letters, addressed to me," Buffy replied with a shrug. Part of her wanted to share in her good news, but another didn't want to make a big deal about it because Tom didn't get adopted, and he still lived at the orphanage. "You didn't answer my question, though. Were you following me, or were you following Malfoy?"

"I was following Malfoy, who was following you," Tom replied. "He's become rather fascinated with you lately. It's making me worried."

"You're worried about me?" Buffy asked, before rising on her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. "That's so sweet."

"Yes, I've noticed him following you around a lot as of late," Tom replied, his arms tightening around her. "I don't like it."

"He's been following me around? For how long? And why didn't I even notice it?" Buffy asked, growing concerned. She was worried; was she losing her senses? Normally she could tell someone was following her, either by her extra sense or her hearing.

"Yes, a couple of weeks and us Slytherins have a talent for being particularly sneaky," Tom replied. "So, are you free this afternoon?"

"No," Buffy replied with a groan, burying her face in Tom's chest. "Can it be June already?"

"They're really riding you hard, aren't they?" Tom asked, and Buffy whimpered. "Is it really that bad?"

"No, you said they were riding me hard. Do you have any idea how naughty that sounds?" Buffy asked, looking up at him. Tom's expression was blank. "I guess not."

"Maybe you could explain it to me?" Tom asked with a devilish smirk.

"Not today," Buffy said with another groan. "Walk me to my common room?"

"You never even have to ask," Tom replied, taking her hand so that she could lead him to the portrait of the Fat Lady. It was a short walk, but it was one of the few times outside of classes where they could spend time together. They still had their tutoring sessions, of course, but with exams bearing down on them they were spent actually working on potions and not snuggling on the transfigured couch in their little room.

"I seriously can't wait until exams are over," Buffy said with a sigh when they reached the portrait hole.

"Then we'll have a few days all to ourselves before we have to go home for the summer," Tom remarked, sounding a little sad. "You'll write to me, right?"

"Every day," Buffy replied, rising onto her tiptoes to kiss him. Tom wrapped his arms around her and they kissed until she was breathless, still on her tiptoes when they broke away. "But I don't want to talk about that. We still have some time before we have to split and I want to make the most of it."

"Sounds like a good plan to me," Tom replied as Buffy kissed the tip of his nose before lowering herself back down to the floor.

"We'll do something this week, I promise," Buffy said as she turned to the portrait.

"I'm going to hold you on that," Tom said, turning and heading down the corridor.

Taking a deep breath, Buffy waited until Tom was out of earshot before she gave the password. She wondered if her friends knew that one of their families would end up with another member by the end of the summer. _Probably, _Buffy thought. _It would be just mean to spring this onto them spur of the moment_. The grins that greeted her answered her question.

"So, I guess you heard?" Buffy asked.

"By the end of the summer, one of us is going to end up with a sister," Terrence said with a grin. "Or, in some cases, another one."

"So, all of you are okay with the possibility of having me as a sister?" Buffy asked.

"Our parents wouldn't have written you those letters if we weren't," Augusta replied. "Thank goodness for them we already think of you as one of our own, anyway."

"Oh, you guys!" Buffy exclaimed, tears springing her eyes. For the very first time since she had arrived at Hogwarts, she felt like she belonged, like she was home. It might not be her original home, but it was where her heart was.

"We'll have lots of time to be happy about this… _after _exams," Minerva said, bringing them all back to the here and now. "Now, we need to go through switching spells again, Buffy."

XOXOXO

"So, are you worried about exams?" Tom asked. They were on their sofa, in their room, and Tom had insisted that they take the night off from studying despite Buffy's protests.

"Yeah. Weren't you?" Buffy replied. "And if _someone _hadn't hidden my books I'd be doing the whole bookworm thing."

"Of course not," Tom replied. "My marks prior to my OWLs gave me an indication as to how I was going to perform on my exam."

"If that's the case, then I'll be lucky to pass," Buffy said with a moan, burying her face in Tom's shoulder. "And I see you didn't deny taking my books away."

"You will do fine. You're passing everything, and with the help from your friends I'm sure you'll get enough OWLs to do whatever you want to do," Tom said with a reassuring kiss to Buffy's forehead. "And I can neither confirm or deny it was me who stole your books. It might have been a younger student."

"A younger student you probably hired to steal my books," Buffy retorted.

"No comment," Tom said with a smirk.

"So, what are your plans for the summer?" Buffy asked. She was curious what he was going to be up to; maybe they could meet during the holidays, if her potential adoptive parents allowed her. Idly, she wondered what their feelings towards Slytherins were, but shelved that thought for the moment and concentrated on Tom.

"Going back to the orphanage," Tom replied. "I started working at a shop in Knockturn Alley last summer and my position is there, waiting for me, when I get out for the summer. I've been saving up a bit. I want out of that orphanage as soon as I can. Or when they kick me out, whichever comes first."

"I can't blame you," Buffy replied with a slight shiver. Tom wrapped his arm around her, tighter, and pressed another kiss to her forehead.

"And you?" Tom asked. "Where are you going once the holidays start?"

"Well," Buffy began, chewing on her bottom lip. This wasn't something she particularly wanted to speak to Tom about. She had four families wanting to take her in, and she'd only been an orphan for six months. Tom had been an orphan his entire life, and as far as Buffy knew no one had wanted to take him in. It wasn't something they talked about often – Buffy could tell it hurt for him to speak about it.

"Come on, you can tell me," Tom said, reassuringly.

"Well, my friends' parents offered to put me up for a couple of weeks each," Buffy replied. "Because, you know, I don't have any family."

"That's nice," Tom said. "Sounds like you'll be busy."

"I'll find time to write to you every day. Promise," Buffy said with a smile. "Now, will you let me study? I'm still worried about my Charms exam. I don't want to deal with Augusta's wrath if I end up failing it."

"I think I'm going to go with 'no' here," Tom said with a wolfish grin. "I think I can find something a little more worthwhile for you to study."

"Oh yeah, like what?" Buffy asked, quirking an eyebrow at him as she returned his grin with a smirk of her own.

"Me," Tom replied, grabbing her around the waist and pulling her on top of him. Giggling, she went with it, definitely agreeing that this particular topic was a worthwhile one.

XOXOXO

**So yeah, it's short. I'm sorry… but hey, it's early! That has to count for something, right? Next chapter should be up next week, earlier if I don't have to work this weekend. Stay tuned!**


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

Buffy had decided, one afternoon a few days before the beginning of her exams, that she wouldn't be able to keep up her charade for very much longer. While she knew she couldn't tell everyone that she was from the future, she could tell the rest of her friends that she was the Slayer. Well, _a _Slayer. She didn't want to have her new family, whoever it ended up being with, to throw her out like her mother had if she had to go out and save the world. The only way she could see that happening would be to come clean about her other life.

She just hoped that, as members of the wizarding world, they wouldn't toss her out, or send her to the funny farm.

However, there was a small problem with her plan. Because Buffy wanted to tell her three seventh year friends her story at the same time, in a place where they couldn't be overheard, it would take a fair amount of finagling to get it all prepared. The problem with that was that with Quidditch finals, NEWTs, OWLs and opposing class schedules made it very difficult for all of them to be in the same room at the same time for any length of time, not even mentioning getting them into a room that was eavesdrop-proof.

As long as she could get the information to her friends before they left Hogwarts for the summer holidays, Buffy would be happy. Until then, Buffy had to buckle down and study hard for her OWLs. Thankfully, she was exempt from her sixth year exams, otherwise she really would have been in trouble. She supposed that the professors had decided that if she had a decent showing on her OWLs it would more than prove her ability to handle the seventh year classes she would be taking in the fall.

The first exam Buffy had was the one for History of Magic. Ten minutes into the exam, she knew she wouldn't be taking the class again in the fall. Even though she had gone through her – well, Quentin's – notes several times, the information didn't seem to stick. Maybe it was because whenever she read her notes, the voice in her head read the words in Professor Binns' drone, and she was zoning out in moments. Whatever it was, Buffy was certain that she wouldn't be taking that class again.

The other ones seemed to go all right – Buffy was able to change her teapot into a tortoise in Transfiguration and mark down the incantation to turn a rat into a water goblet. Defence Against the Dark Arts, she was able to identify ten different demons by name and demonstrate some of the offensive spells she had been taught throughout the year. Potions, a simple concoction to help cure boils. Divination, dream interpretation. Care of Magical Creatures, identifying various creatures by looking at a picture of them. The only one Buffy seemed to have a problem with was her last exam, Charms.

"So, what did they make you do?" Augusta asked when Buffy came back from her last exam, flopping down onto a sofa in the common room.

"Wanted me to make a pineapple tap dance across the desk," Buffy replied with a shrug.

"How do you think you did?" Augusta asked.

"The pineapple didn't tap dance," Buffy replied, wrinkling her nose. Sure, the pineapple did do a little dance, but she doubted a sexy, grinding, would-have-been-sliding-up-and-down-a-pole dance wouldn't get her top marks. Or very good marks at all. Hell, she didn't even know a pineapple could dance like that!

"Well, as long as it danced I'm sure they won't fail you," Augusta said confidently.

"Here's hoping," Buffy said with a sigh before she got up from her seat. "I think I'm going to go for a walk. Clear my head, you know?"

"Sure, sounds like a good idea," Augusta said. "I'll see you at dinner?"

"Definitely," Buffy replied before turning and leaving the common room. She definitely needed to clear her head and figure out how she was going to deal with everything. She was going to be moving in with the McGonagalls in a few days, and she needed to figure out how to tell her friends about her Slayer-ness with the smallest level of freak out.

She wasn't the only person outside enjoying the early June weather. Smiling to herself as she soaked up the long overdue sunshine, she headed towards the edge of the forest, walking the perimeter of the school grounds, taking in the beauty of the scenery in early summer. It was hard for her to believe that grounds that had been covered in snow not more than four months ago was now lush, green and habitable to the people who attended at the school.

She was so caught up in her observations of the things around her that she didn't hear the rustling of the bushes behind her, and until she heard the whispered spell she didn't know someone was behind her and didn't have time to dodge the stunner that was shot at her back.

XOXOXO

"_Enervate."_

Buffy blinked, feeling the stunning spell lift. She tried to sit up, but found that she couldn't due to the fact that her feet were bound together and her hands bound behind her back by heavy, black ropes. She took in her surroundings – she was in the forest, in a clearing, and there were four other people with her, Abraxas Malfoy and three other students, presumably Slytherins as well.

"Where the hell am I?" Buffy grumbled.

"The Forbidden Forest," Malfoy replied, coming over to check Buffy's ropes.

"And _why _are we in the Forbidden Forest?" Buffy asked. "I mean, if you wanted to talk to me all you had to do was ask. You didn't have to kidnap me or anything."

"All will be revealed in due time," Malfoy replied, before he went back to what looked like a circle drawn on the ground. "We'll be doing much more than talking, and I needed a more private venue to do what I needed to do."

"If this is going to be some weird five way orgy, I want out now," Buffy said. "Don't make me break these ropes and kick your ass."

"There is no way you'd be able to break those ropes. They're spelled," Malfoy replied blandly. "And this isn't going to be some weird orgy. I would rather touch you as little as possible. Wouldn't want to get my hands dirty, you know."

"Okay then, _why _am I tied up in the middle of the forest?" Buffy asked again.

"Persistent, aren't you?" Malfoy asked. "Well, I suppose I could tell you. You don't belong here."

"Oh not this crap again," Buffy said with a sigh. "Look I get that I'm not 'pure blood' or anything like that, but does that honestly matter? Seriously? I mean, hello, inbreeding!"

"Although we disagree on that point, that is not the reason why you don't belong here," Malfoy said. "I know your secret."

"And what secret is that?" Buffy asked, beginning to panic. She wondered which secret he knew, and wracked her brain to figure out when and where she had spoken about one or the other. Finding no real instances where she had spoken about it in the wide open, she wondered how Malfoy had heard about one or the other.

"I found it quite odd that an American girl with no discernable magical education was accepted to Hogwarts, one of the most prestigious magical schools in the world, with no questions asked," Malfoy continued. "I did some searching, using my family's connections, and found some rather interesting information. Up until the moment you came to Hogwarts, you didn't exist. There were no birth records, death records, or school records, no records of any kind, for a Buffy Anne Summers. It was almost like you… fell from the sky."

Buffy stilled, her eyes going wide. Had he figured out that she wasn't from this time? What was he going to do with this information? It had to be, because he certainly wasn't talking about her _other _big bad secret that wasn't really much of a secret, considering how many people knew about it.

"There were only two possible explanations for this," Malfoy said. "One, that you are a mystical object concealed in the form of a human for protection, or that you have not been born yet. I do not particularly care one way or the other. The only thing I care about is the fact that you don't belong here."

"You're going to kill me?" Buffy asked, scared. She had died before but it was only for a minute and she was revived soon afterwards. This would be death of a more permanent variety, and while she knew this day would come she was in no way prepared for it.

"No, no, nothing so barbaric," Malfoy said with a laugh. "I'm not going to kill you. After all, evidence can be left on bodies and evidence can be traced to whoever did the crime. No, I'm just going to make you disappear."

He went back to the three Slytherins he had brought with him and together they huddled and whispered. Buffy strained her ears to hear what they were talking about, but wasn't able to. Shortly afterwards, they dispersed and formed a loose circle around the circle they had drawn on the ground.

They began chanting.

As soon as the chanting began, Buffy began screaming. There was no way they were far enough in the forest that no one would be able to hear her. She continued to scream until Malfoy sighed and rolled his eyes, throwing a silencing spell her way.

"Can't have you alerting people of what we're doing, now can we?" he sing-songed, before going back to chanting. Buffy wondered where he had gotten this spell – she hadn't seen anything like it in the Hogwarts library. Then again, she hadn't had access to the restricted section, while Malfoy, as the Head Boy, probably did. That, and apparently he had connections and would probably have the information at his fingertips, being one of those extremely influential purebloods she'd heard so much about.

The air began to crackle as the portal began to form. It was swirling and it looked unstable, like it would rip her apart if she came anywhere near it. While he wasn't pulling the trigger, per se, he was still providing the means that could possibly kill her. Was that negligence? Buffy didn't know. All she knew was that that portal looked dangerous, and she didn't want to go anywhere near it.

"Now then, let's get that silencing charm off of you," Malfoy said, taking the silencing charm off of her. Buffy opened her mouth to scream again and found herself stifled by a hand over her mouth. "If you scream again, I'll put it back on, and I won't take it off before we throw you into the portal."

"I have one question," Buffy said after Malfoy removed his hand. "Why?"

"You are becoming far too influential to certain people around here," Malfoy said. "With you gone, he will go back to the manipulative bastard the rest of us know and follow."

"Tom," Buffy said. "You're doing all of this because Tom is changing?"

"That's the crux of it," Malfoy replied, picking Buffy up. She tried to squirm her way out of his arms, although if she were successful she wasn't entirely sure what she was going to do. It wasn't like she could fight back or run away or anything.

"That's sick," Buffy said, still squirming.

"No, what's sick is allowing mudbloods and half-breeds to learn magic, when it should only be learned and kept in all-magical families," Malfoy snarled. "When Riddle got that oaf expelled last year, I knew he believed in the same cause as the rest of us Slytherins. With him at our helm, we, as a force, will become invincible!"

"No," Buffy whispered. "No."

"Yes," Malfoy said. "I bet you didn't know your significant other was a pureblood supremacist, just like the rest of us."

Before Buffy could say anything else, she could hear the sounds of people crashing through the trees. Panicking slightly, Malfoy ran so that he was close enough to the portal before throwing her in without any more fanfare. As she was sucked into the abyss, she could see her Gryffindor friends, plus Hagrid, bursting into the clearing, but it was too late.

She was already gone.

"Good bye," she whispered before she was sucked out of view. She felt like she was being sucked through a vacuum, and before long she was deposited, rather unceremoniously, onto the pavement of some road. She looked around, recognizing her surroundings.

She had been deposited at the outskirts of Sunnydale.

XOXOXO

**Alright, so it's done. Finito. I'd like to thank everyone for sticking through all 100,000 words of this insane ride, both the ups and the downs and dealing with my somewhat irregular update schedule.**

**Not sure when the sequel will be posted… it's being worked on, although I may take a hiatus while working on NaNoWriMo.**


	28. SEQUEL POSTED

Just letting everyone know the sequel to this has been posted. It can be found in my profile.


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